Lessons
by awes0me-punk
Summary: Punk/OC - it all started when his mom recommended he attend cooking lessons so he could learn to cook for future girlfriends, that's until he ends up having sex within the first 30 minutes of his first encounter with his cooking teacher Ann, will the friends with benefits turn into love?
1. Chapter 1

**honestly i have no idea where I was going with this, i'm hoping it's the start of a new story and i'm not sure how you guys feel about this since you all bloody love Give Me Love - but I wanted change. I admit that this may not be the type of Punk that exists, but I would love it if he was like this, i know all about his straight edge ethics but i'm just hoping you trust me on this side to CM Punk in this story, it's an OC/CM Punk - it's pretty long chapter but i really hope you like it :)))) please don't mither me to finish give me love because i'll get round to it, here's a new fanfic for you to enjoy in the meantime**, **don't forget to review**

She had been teaching cooking classes at the local community college for two years now, but had only been holding private one-on-one lessons at her home for a few months to help supplement her income. The classes had originally only been held on Monday nights, but when word of mouth started to work in her favour, Ann had to include Wednesday and Friday nights as well. Apparently people liked the way she taught her passion. The private lessons were more expensive than the group classes at the college, but her students had told her that it was worth it.

Because she held the classes in her own kitchen, every student went through a vetting process. There was a basic background check, as well as three required non-family references. She couldn't help it. She wanted to be safe, because you never knew who was going to sign up for a class. There was a little storefront that she'd been eyeing for the last two months, one that she could easily turn into a little cafe where she could hold larger classes on the weekends.

As she puttered around in her kitchen, waiting for tonight's student to arrive, she hummed along with the radio. A few of her friends from culinary school had thought she was strange for preferring to listen to music while she cooked. Some of them had asked her how she could concentrate, but the music was honestly what kept her mind focused on what she was doing. It helped her keep her attention on the task at hand, as strange as that sounded to other people. If there was nothing but silence or ambient sound, Ann had a hard time focusing.

While she was filling ramekins with seasonings, her doorbell rang. She dusted her hands on her apron, turned the double oven to 450 so it could preheat, and walked over to the door, taking a deep breath. Admittedly, she hadn't looked into this man's information too much. There had been nothing on his criminal background check and the references were all glowing. That had been enough for her. Besides, she preferred to get to know her students in class instead of forming a preconceived opinion of them through the background check.

Her surprise when she opened the door to reveal a six foot tall, muscular, dark haired, bearded, tattooed _hunk_ carrying a paper bag of supplies, popping a couple of jelly beans into his mouth, was palpable.

"Hi, I'm Phil," he said with a smile, sticking a hand out. It took her a second, but she took his hand and shook it, still somewhat confused as to how this man couldn't just ask his girlfriend to teach him to cook. "Uh. Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," she replied, stepping back to allow him in. "I'm Ann, it's nice to meet you. Did you find the place okay?"

He nodded and walked in, looking around before giving her a crooked smile that made her weak in the knees. "It wasn't too difficult. So, where do you want me to put this stuff? The email I got said to bring it."

Taking a breath, she led him into the kitchen, wondering just who on earth suggested her cooking classes to this man and how she could kill them for not warning her about what a good looking man he was. He looked really familiar, but she couldn't place it. Maybe it was the beard.

"You can just unpack everything on the counter, then put your apron on and we can get started," she explained, picking up the remote for her iPhone dock to turn the volume down. She glanced at him and, noting that he was about to say something, added, "And yes, you have to wear an apron, no complaining."

"I wasn't going to complain, unless it has ruffles on it or something… I, uh. I kind of forgot to get one?"

Rolling her eyes, Ann reached into the pantry and blindly grabbed one off the row of hooks, where she kept a multitude of aprons for when she had guests over who simply _had_ to help cook. "Here," she said as she tossed the apron to him. "Just put that on, then wash your hands." She made her way back to the fridge, putting the things he'd brought that needed to be refrigerated inside, since those things came later in the lesson. When she looked up again, he was holding the apron up and just looking at it with a bemused grin on his face. "What?"

"Was this the only one you had in there?"

"No, I have about twenty different aprons on the wall, why?"

He turned the apron around and pulled it over his head, adjusting it so that it fit comfortably before tying the strings around his waist. "No reason," he grinned, winking at her as she went to the sink to wash her hands and deal with the chicken. "I'm just amused."

To be honest, she wished she didn't pick out that particular apron, the WWE superstar montage apron was a constant reminder of her ex- boyfriend who just so happened to be her ex-boss at the restaurant she used to work in, it had been a gag gift from a him at Christmastime since he would never shut up about the different storylines, if she was being honest she secretly enjoyed it too. The apron looked damn good on him, even with him striking a superhero pose as Ann pulled her chicken out of the water bath it was in.

"You're silly," she smiled, shaking her head while she blotted the chicken dry with a paper towel. "Now, your email said that the most you can do, aside from taking stuff out of the freezer and throwing it in the oven or microwave, is macaroni and cheese, right?"

"That would be correct." Why was he standing right next to her? Good lord, he smelled nice. "My mom always cooks when I'm home so I just never really learned. I travel a lot for work, so most of the time I'm not even able to cook anyway." She looked up at him, tilting her head a bit as she studied him more closely. "What?"

She shrugged and picked the now-dry chicken up, carrying it over to the counter. "Nothing… You just look really familiar and I can't place it, that's all," she explained, putting the chicken on the cutting board, breast up. "Roast chicken is insanely easy. You can get as fancy or simple with it as you want. When I first started cooking, I just did a garlic rub and that was great. Anyway, unwrap your chicken and take the gizzards out, then rinse it until the water runs clear." There was a pause before she looked at him over her shoulder, laughing softly at the look on his face. "The gizzards would be the parchment paper pouch of internal organs that you'll find stuffing the bird's body cavity. Some people eat them, but judging by the look on your face, you don't, so you can just chuck them in the trash."

As she watched him, Ann couldn't help but smile at the way his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he worked on the bird. Especially not the way his ass looked in those jeans. Good lord indeed.

"All right, it's running clear, now what?" he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Now bring it over to the counter and put it breast side up on your cutting board." She wasn't surprised that Phil had brought what looked like a brand new roaster and cutting board. If the man never cooked anything that wasn't from the freezer section, he would have had no need for it prior to today. "No, Phil, that's breast side down. Turn it over."

This was going to be a long day. At least he was cute.

"Now what?" Phil asked, looking at her once the chicken was facing the right way.

She turned to the counter and took a deep breath before picking up the kitchen twine. "Turn it so that the butt's facing away from you. Now, I know this sounds complicated, but once you get the hang of it, it's really not. This is how you truss a chicken. You do this so that it cooks more evenly, instead of drying out one part of the chicken while cooking the rest. If you don't, hot air circulates inside the cavity and will dry out the breast before the legs and thighs are done. If you want juicy breasts, you've got to tie it up. All right?" Her gaze lifted to his and she paused a second, startled by how intently he was looking at her. Clearing her throat, Ann picked up her kitchen shears and cut off a long piece of the twine before handing the roll to Phil. "Cut off a long piece."

When Phil cut off a piece that was probably a little too long, she simply shook her head and went about showing him how to tie the chicken up. "If you don't want to truss it every time, you can always make stuffing or just shove a lemon and onion inside of the chicken." She turned her chicken around so that the butt was facing away and motioned for him to do the same. "All right, now. It's sort of like tying your shoes, for the most part. It just happens to have a chicken in the middle. The string goes underneath the butt, then you criss-cross them over the top."

Phil seemed to have gotten the hang of it so far, so she continued, showing him what to do on her chicken, but slow enough that he could follow along. "Now, put the strands under the legs before pulling it tight. See?"

"So sort of like a girl crossing her legs," he said, giving her a smile.

Laughing, she shook her head and continued on. "So, put your fingers on the cutting board, then guide the strings to the top of the wings. Flip it over so that the butt's facing you." She watched as Phil fumbled with the chicken, smiling as he cursed when the slippery bird nearly fell off the table. "Need a hand there, Phil?"

"No, I've got it… I think." He managed to get the strings to where they needed to be and she looked it over, just to make sure, then nodded. "Good. I never realized tying a chicken up meant I got to have juicy breasts." He raised an eyebrow and gave her that stupid crooked smile again and she felt herself blushing, which she normally didn't do. "So now what?"

"Um." She cleared her throat again. "The way that I was taught this was to say 'once, twice, three times a chicken' as you loop one string over the other three times."

He burst out laughing and said, "Seriously? Three times a chicken?"

"Yes, seriously!" she laughed, showing him how to catch the neck of the chicken in the knot, pulling hers tight. "My teacher was obsessed with Lionel Richie and would threaten to smack anyone who didn't refer to the neck knot as three times a chicken." She reached over and opened the knot for him. "Here. Now, you put the neck in, and then pull it tight until you hear a small crack… Ow! Not that crack!" As she tried to yank her thumb out of the knot, she laughed and looked up at him. "Come on, let go of my finger." She realized then just how close she was to him. Kissing distance close. And he was looking right at her mouth.

He seemed to realize what he was doing, because he fumbled the knot back open so she could have her thumb back, his own cheeks turning a light pink as he mumbled, "Sorry… Didn't realize your thumb was in there." God, how cute could one grown man possibly be?

"It's okay," she said, giving him a smile. "I didn't mind. So anyway, back to the chick—"

He was kissing her. His hands were on her hips and he was kissing her. He tasted like peppermint and coffee and chocolate and he was kissing her.

Her eyes shot open and she put her hands on his chest, clad in that ridiculous WWE apron, and she pulled back a little bit. "Phil, I don't think we should…" she admitted, even though she wanted to keep kissing him. He was really cute, but… They had raw chickens on the table. If they didn't get them in the ovens, they'd spoil. Besides, he'd paid for cooking lessons, not to make out in her kitchen. The way his face fell when she said no made her heart twinge, but he nodded and stepped back.

"Okay." He looked down at his chicken, then gave her a sideways glance. "Maybe once these little guys get in the oven?"

She blushed and helped him fix his truss strings, which had come loose during the kiss. "Maybe," she agreed, tying off her own strings before motioning for him to do so. The excess strings were cut off and tossed into the trash behind them before she continued, "So now you tuck the wing tips inside, so that they're protected. Turn it over so that its belly is facing the ceiling and push the breast" oh good lord, she was blushing again "tip down. This makes it cook more evenly. Got it?"

"I think so," Phil said, fumbling a little with the wing tips before he turned the chicken over to tuck the breast bone down. "So which bone am I looking for again?"

"The breast bone."

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"Phil, if you ask me to say that one more time, I'm going to go get my wooden spoon and smack you with it."

"All right, all right," he laughed, winking at her as he pushed the breast bone down. "So what comes next?"

She looked over the supplies that he'd brought, glad to see that the only thing he'd forgotten was his apron. "Now I want you to take your kosher salt and rain about a tablespoon of it down onto the chicken. That'll make the skin nice and crispy as it roasts. You want the oven to be preheated to 450, so it's usually best to turn that on before you start handling the chicken at all," she explained, picking up her ramekin of salt. "Also, if you decide you like cooking and want to do it more often, if you're going to do something with a lot of ingredients or prep, it's a good idea to set everything up before you start."

"So sort of like if you're going to use sex toys with your partner, to have them there, so that you're not running around looking for the dildo while she's losing interest."

Turning to him, she put a hand on her hip and gave him a look. "If you keep talking like that, I really am going to get the wooden spoon. But yes, sort of like that, minus the sex." She covered her chicken with the salt, making sure it was even across the bird's body, and motioned for him to do the same. "You want to make sure it's even so that you don't get a giant clump of salt in one bite and no salt in another. Add as much or as little pepper as you like, but put it on the same way, in an even coat."

Phil added some pepper to his chicken, then a little more before putting the shaker down. "What else?" he asked, giving her a smile. Jesus, did he _know_ what that crooked smile was doing to her? He had to. A man that good looking just could not be oblivious to his effect on women.

"That's it."

"That's it?"

"That's it. My friend, you just prepared your first roast chicken." Ann couldn't help but laugh when he did a little dance in place, shaking that cute little butt. "Okay, pick up your chicken. Now, you said you want juicy breasts, right?" That damn smile came back and he nodded, kissing her forehead. "So, the other way you can ensure that is to put the bird breast side down in the pan. You could also wrap the breast with bacon, or stuff some butter between the skin and the meat. I normally marinate my chickens overnight as well, since that gives it a lot more flavour." Picking up her bird, she settled it in the roasting pan on its stomach, then moved over to the oven, opening the door and sliding the pan in.

As Phil did the same, albeit less neatly, he asked, "And how long do these have to cook?" He saw that she was setting the timer on the oven as he put his bird into the top oven. "Just forty-five minutes? That's not too bad."

"It depends on the weight, but that's about when I start checking on it. You can baste it if you want, but I think that creates steam, so I don't like to baste." She stepped over to the kitchen to wash her hands and gave him a grin over her shoulder. "I typically work on the side dish while it roasts, but I have a feeling I might be a little preoccupied today."

He moved over to her and slid his arms around her waist, washing his hands quickly before giving her a quick squeeze. "I'd be inclined to agree," he admitted as she turned around to face him, leaning against the sink. "So, Miss Teacher, should we get the side dish ready or do something a little more personal?"

"Well, Mr Student," she smiled, her hands resting on his hips, "I think we should clean up the kitchen before we do anything else. What do you think?"

With a groan, he nodded, but pressed himself against her and leaned in for a soft kiss. "Okay," he murmured, bumping her nose with his. "Tell me where everything goes?"

The clean up only took a few minutes, but with Phil's flirting and her responding, it could have taken much longer. She'd finally been forced to brandish her wooden spoon, something she kept mainly as a threat to a friend of hers who wandered into her kitchen from time to time, and he'd been a good boy and finished cleaning up.

"C'mon you," she smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him into the living room, where she sat him down on the couch before climbing into his lap, straddling it easily. "I think you should know that I don't do this with all of my students."

"You mean you don't start talking about juicy breasts and legs and thighs and kiss your students and then climb into their laps while the thing's cooking?" he asked dryly, his hands moving up her sides to cup her tits through her shirt and apron. "I think we need to lose this apron… It's just getting in the way."

Laughing, Ann reached back and untied the waist straps before pulling it over her head and dropping it onto the floor. "You mean you don't like the image of a naked girl in an apron? Really? I think you're the first man I've met who doesn't," she teased, leaning in for another kiss just as he groaned, his cock hardening underneath her.

"That's actually really hot, I'd never thought of that before. You're so putting that apron back on when I'm done with you," he said, his voice rough as he leaned in to kiss her again, one strong hand cupping the back of her head, the other resting on the small of her back. Her hands were on his shoulders, drifting down to his chest before she looked down, chuckling softly when she realized he still had his apron on. "What? You're the one who said something about a naked girl in an apron."

She shook her head and stole another soft kiss. "That's not it. It's just that this apron looks good on you. You have the muscles to fill it out," she admitted, one hand trailing down his chest, fingertips running along the lines of his abs. "Maybe I'll call you Macho Man while you fuck me." Smiling, she kissed him again, reaching down to undo his belt. "You have a condom, right? I have some in the bedroom if you don't…"

"Fuck, if you call me that, I think I'll have to GTS you," he breathed, kissing her again, thrusting up as she worked on getting his jeans down before he simply rolled her over on the couch, laying her down on her back and resting on top of her.

She groaned when he rocked down against her, her hands pulling her skirt up as he fussed with his jeans. "What does that even mean?" she asked, pushing her panties down and managing to squirm out of them without kicking Phil in the face. "Is that some sort of weird sex talk?"

The look on his face was strange, as if he was confused about something, but he smiled and kissed her softly, his hand brushing the inside of her thigh. "Don't worry about it," he said, leaning down to kiss her thigh before he tugged her shirt over her head. "You're beautiful." It probably would have sounded like a line coming from anyone else, but for some reason, she believed him when he said it.

He kissed the side of her neck and quietly asked, "Do you let guys with beards go down on you?" as he gently brushed the back of his knuckles over her clit, sending a shiver down her spine. There was a moment's hesitation before she shook her head, her hands sliding down his arms, somewhat astonished at how muscular they were under her hands. Was this man a bodybuilder or something? "That's okay… I can always shave for next time, if you want there to be one." He smirked and kissed her again before pulling his apron and t-shirt off, revealing a gorgeous chest, a canvas like body that was filled with various interesting tattoo's.

She couldn't help it. She just had to reach up and touch him, her fingertips ghosting over the tattoo over his chest, the one on his right pec. Her hands moved to his arms, touching the tattoos he had there. There was a sudden, overwhelming urge to push them off the couch onto the floor and pin him down so that she could lick his tattoos. When the urge didn't disappear by the time he kissed her again, she decided to just go with it. She pushed up, manoeuvring them off the couch so that he landed on the floor next to it and she landed on top of him.

Thankfully, the couch was somewhat low to the ground anyway.

"That's not fair," he laughed, sliding a hand through her ponytail. "I wanted to be on top."

She smiled and settled in his lap, wriggling against his cock. "You can be on top later, big boy. I am your teacher, after all," she smirked, leaning down to nip at his bottom lip before she shifted down to the tattoo on his chest. There was definitely truth in her best friend's assertion that she had an oral fixation. One of her favourite things to do to her boyfriends and lovers was bite and lick and suck at their skin. Her men tended to have hickeys all over. One boyfriend even wound up with bite marks on his butt one day because he was sleeping on his belly. "Any aversion to hickeys?" Her mouth closed on the tattoo, one hand finding his nipple as she felt his hand creeping between her thighs, a finger slipping inside of her.

Chuckling, he shook his head and slowly worked her pussy with his finger, admitting, "Nah, I'm not working right now, so there's no chance of me losing my shirt for the camera."

Okay, that confused her. She stopped mouthing at the tattoo and sat up, moaning softly as the change in position pushed his finger a little deeper inside of her. "What do you mean?" she asked, her hands sliding over his chest before she shifted to kneel next to him, getting his jeans off as he kicked off his sneakers. She knew she was ready, had been ready since he'd first kissed her over the chickens. She needed him inside of her _now_, and if she didn't get it soon, she was going to combust.

"Condom in my wallet," he said, and she pulled the wallet out of his jeans pocket, handing it to him. He pulled the foil packet out and handed it to her, but took her hand before she tore it open. "Look, I know you did a background check on me. Did you even look at it when you got it back?"

There was a brief pause before she admitted, "Honestly, no. The only part I looked at was the criminal report. Why? You're not a porn star or something, are you?"

Phil suddenly laughed and rubbed at his face before shaking his head. "No, I'm… It's not porn. I, uh. I'm a professional wrestler. The reason I was so amused at you handing me the WWE apron is because well, I wrestle for the WWE."

Ann stared at him. "Wait, oh my god, Punk? CM Punk" she asked, her heart suddenly feeling like it was going to pound out of her chest. She had CM Punk naked on her living room floor. She was about to have sex with CM Punk.

Good fucking god, _she was about to have sex with CM fucking Punk_.

"Yeah," he admitted, giving her a sheepish smile. "Still wanna go through with this?"

Nodding, she ripped open the condom packet, took the latex out, and rolled it down onto his cock before she pulled her skirt off and climbed into his lap, slowly sinking down onto his dick. "What do you think?" she gasped, her back arching as the man's cock filled her. "God, you're so big…"

His hands came to rest on her hips and he asked, "Did you really not know who I was?" as he rocked up into her, meeting her as she started to move on his lap.

She shook her head, reaching down to take his hands, guiding them up to her breasts. "I didn't… I thought you looked familiar, but I didn't know where from," she admitted, giving him a shy smile.

"So why did you look so shocked when you answered the door?"

"Because you're really fucking hot? Have you not looked in a mirror lately?" she laughed, leaning down to kiss him as she kept moving her hips, rocking on his cock, driving him in and out of her slick folds. "You feel so good inside me, Phil."

His hands on her breasts were wonderful, strong, but still gentle. She knew he wouldn't hurt her unless she asked him to, and maybe not even then. She didn't know how she knew; she just did. There was just something about Phil that set her at ease that made her feel so comfortable around him. She _never_ did this. The last time she'd had sex was the night before she and her most recent ex had split up. They were still friends, for the most part, but they just hadn't been meant to be together.

Phil's hands moved down to her hips, guiding her on his lap, and she looked down at him, giving him a smile. "What, no comment about how good looking you are?" she teased, leaning down to kiss him, resting her elbows on either side of his chest, her ponytail sliding over her shoulder as she continued rocking on her knees, enjoying the way he felt inside of her.

"Yeah, no comment on that," he smiled, kissing her again as his hands drifted to her ass, gripping it firmly. "You feel amazing, sweetheart." One of his hands moved to the back of her head, holding her in a slow kiss as he thrust up into her, drawing a whimpering moan out of her.

This was amazing. She had never had sex with someone as classically good looking as Phil. She'd never had sex with a famous person. She'd never had sex with one of her cooking students. God, she hoped this wouldn't be the only time. He was signed up for three more sessions with her, so maybe…

Before she knew it, her hips were rocking harder, driving herself down onto his hard cock. His mouth found her breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth, his hands pressing her against him, and there was a brief moment of clarity, where she thought, "What exactly am I doing here? Why am I having sex with a man I met less than an hour ago on my living room floor? Why am I thinking about a second time when he probably won't even stay for dinner?"

Then it was lost as her orgasm ripped through her and she bucked, crying out his name, her muscles clamping down around his cock.

"Oh god," she panted, her arms suddenly going weak as her body stilled, whimpering softly, considering that he was still thrusting. His movements were coming faster and his moans were rougher. He was getting close and, just as she squeezed down around him, catching his mouth in a hungry kiss, he came, thrusting up into her, one hand on her back and the other on the back of her head.

As much as she didn't want to move, she knew she had to. It couldn't be very comfortable for him to be lying on his back on a hardwood floor with a girl on top of him. Not that he'd complain, probably. Still, they had to take care of the condom no matter what, so as she kissed him again, smoothing a hand over his hair, she carefully pulled off of him. She watched as he gently (he had to be sensitive, since he'd just come) took the condom off and knotted it, looking around before she took it and tossed it into the tiny pink trash can she kept next to the sofa. After a second's thought, she reached up onto the coffee table and grabbed a couple of tissues, handing them to him, one eyebrow raised questioningly. He took them and dabbed at his cock, cleaning up the remnants of the come.

After he tossed the tissues in the general direction of the trash can, he rolled onto his side and held an arm up, which she took to mean that he wanted her curled against him.

So she did.

She laid back down next to him, snuggling close to that warm, tattooed chest, and leaned in for another kiss. "Hi," she smiled, nosing at his chin. "You doing okay?"

"Hi, yourself. I'm fantastic," he laughed, kissing her forehead. "How about you? You all right?" His hand ghosted over her back, one leg hooking around hers, holding her as close as he could. Yeah, this guy was definitely a cuddler. In fact, if his chicken turned out all right, he might even have qualified as a keeper.

"I'm great," she smiled, her fingertips brushing over the tattoo she'd been sucking on. "I honestly wasn't expecting this to happen today. I mean, the class is one thing, I knew that was going to happen. I wasn't expecting you to be such a good looking guy, or so funny." She paused, thinking about something, then looked at him. "You're not married or anything, right? Because if I just helped you cheat on someone, I might have to smack the shit out of you."

He just smiled and toyed with her ponytail before brushing his fingertips over the curve of her breast. "I'm very much single. I don't normally date, to be honest," he admitted. "It's hard to find girls who aren't just into me because I'm a wrestler or because I have a good body." His hand wrapped into her ponytail before he sighed, "It just felt right with you. Feels good. You know?"

Nodding, she stole another kiss and pulled him a little closer, kissing the corner of his mouth, the lip ring tingling against her own lips "I know. But, all things considered, I think this class went very well."

There was a brief moment where he just looked at her before he burst out laughing and pulled her in for another kiss, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. "You're adorable. I'm so glad I saw the flyer at the grocery store," he grinned, stealing another kiss.

"Yeah, I was wondering about that… Why _are_ you taking cooking classes?"

"Oh, it was my mother's idea," he sighed, rubbing her back. "She thinks I need to learn how to cook for when I start dating again, so that I'm not constantly taking the girl out for dinner or to her place or having the girl cook." Shrugging, he stretched a bit before rolling onto his side, facing her, his head resting on his palm. "Do you think I did okay?"

She thought for a second, then shrugged. "I agree with your mom. Everyone should know how to cook a little bit. As far as if you did okay, I don't know yet. We have to pull your chicken out and see how it tastes. If it's horrible, then you failed. If it's awesome, then you did great and can take it home to your mom, like 'Look what I did today!', back in third grade."

The look on his face was suddenly quite serious and she wondered if he was going to ask her to stop teasing him, but instead, he asked, "If my chicken is horrible and I failed, am I going to be punished?" She had no idea how he kept a straight face, because she laughed.

"If your chicken is burnt, dry as a bone, or otherwise inedible, Mr Brooks, then yes, you will be punished. I will get the wooden spoon out and spank you."

He grinned. "And can I spank you after, since you clearly wouldn't have taught me well enough?"

Blushing, she looked away from him. "Maybe. We'll see."

He gently nudged her chin back up and leaned in for a kiss, but the kiss was cut short when the timer on the ovens started beeping. Groaning, he flopped down onto his back, rubbing at his face. "So I guess this means I have to put my apron back on, huh?" he asked before he sat up.

"Exactly," she smirked, standing up and grabbing his apron, tossing it to him before she pulled her own on. She'd made a crack about a naked girl in an apron. It was only fair to follow through. Besides, as she watched Phil stand up and pull his own apron back on, she realized that there were much hotter things than men in short trunks that she forgot about after watching the latest Monday Night Raw.

There were naked men in aprons, in her kitchen, who'd just taken her on the living room floor.

With that in mind, she took his hand and led him back into the kitchen, hoping they could at least get the side dishes prepared without him bending her over the table for round two.

After grabbing potholders and taking her chicken out, she cut a slice in the thigh. "When the chicken's done, there'll be no pink in the centre. See?" she said, showing Phil the cut she'd made in the chicken, where the meat was all white and cooked. "Go on and take yours out and see if it's done."

"It is out."

"Not that, the chicken, you big goof."

"Oh, right," he grinned, stealing a kiss before he took the potholders and took his chicken out, careful not to spill any of the juices that had cooked out of it. "This smells amazing, by the way. I hope it tastes as good as it smells." Considering that the bird looked perfect, she hoped so, too. As playful as she could be sometimes, she wasn't really in a spanking mood today. Ann watched as he cut the thigh, parting the meat with the blade. "It looks okay to me, I think… You?"

She peered at it, nodding slowly. "Looks all right. As long as it's not overcooked, which it shouldn't be, you have successfully made your first roast chicken!" she grinned, patting him on the back. "And you fucked your teacher, too, but that won't get you any extra credit."

His shoulders fell and he looked at her. "Aw, really? Damn, I was hoping for at least a lollipop." Grinning, he watched as she moved her chicken from the roaster to a serving dish, setting it aside.

"Keep smiling at me like that and I might play with _your_ lollipop," she smirked, brushing the back of her hand over his crotch as she walked past him toward the pantry.

His arms slid around her from behind and she felt his lips, warm against her ear, his cock, already perking up again, pressed against her butt. "That a promise?" he asked, his voice low.

"It is, as long as you keep being a good boy in my kitchen," she smiled, leaning back to kiss him, one hand cupping the back of his head, rubbing herself against him, only the thin material of the apron separating them. "Will you listen to what I say and not just focus on the hot chick in nothing but an apron?"

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "I'll do my best," came his muffled reply. "No guarantees, though."

"Well…" she pondered, turning in his arms, kissing him again, one hand slipping under his apron to toy with his cock, drawing a soft moan from him. "I suppose the side dishes can wait until next class… Do you agree?" He nodded emphatically, sucking at the skin of her shoulder as he thrust into her grip. "Good. Because I want something else."

She slipped down to her knees and lifted the apron out of the way, looking up at him with a smile before she took him into her mouth.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hand cupping the back of her head, the other grabbing the counter for support.

He was beautiful from this angle. That broad chest, his strong thighs… It was no wonder Ann was enjoying herself nearly as much as he was. Still, there were so many other things they could do together. Hopefully he'd be game for a couple of others at the next lesson. In fact, she was sure he would be.

She couldn't wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**heyyyyyy guys thanks for the favs/follows/reviews - much appreciated glad you like it ;)))))))))))) it's pretty hot i know, thank you for giving it ago, hope you like this cheeky update, idk if you'll like it but hey ho! tell all your friends and what not c: XOXOX **

"Can you boil pasta?"

Ann could hear Phil's snort through the phone before he deadpanned, "No, I don't know how to boil pasta. Of course I can boil pasta, that's basically the only thing I knew how to do that didn't involve the microwave until I met you. Why?"

She noted a couple of things on her grocery list, including parmesan and a pound of ground beef. "Just making my list for tonight's class. I have to run to the store before you get here, there are a few things I need to pick up," she explained. "And I might pick something up to go with the dessert I'm going to have you make."

"Eh, I'm not really a dessert kind of guy," he sighed, but she scribbled down the couple of things she needed anyway.

"I'm sure you'd enjoy cake if it was eaten off of a naked female body."

There was a brief pause before Phil admitted, "Yeah, you're probably right." She smirked and finished up her list, standing up and grabbing her bag of reusable grocery bags. "So, if you're running to the store, then I guess I'll let you get going. I'll be there around 6. That okay?"

"Works for me. Want me to pick up some condoms while I'm out?"

Even though the last class had been a few days prior, Ann and Phil had gotten together in the interim and had gone through his supply of condoms. Last night, they'd discovered that he didn't have one and neither had she. They'd resorted to oral, since neither of them had felt comfortable having sex without a condom. They'd known each other less than a week, after all.

"No, I picked up a big box at Walgreens this morning. I really love that online order thing, since they stick it in a paper bag and it's stapled shut when you come to get it. It's pretty useful."

Laughing, she shook her head and locked the door behind herself as she headed out to her car. "You're such a goofball," she smiled. "I'll see you around 6. Don't be late or I might have to get the wooden spoon out again."

"Tease," Phil chuckled. "I'll see you then. Drive safe, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't be late."

The kitchen was prepped and the oven preheated when Phil showed up, leaning against the doorframe with his paper bag o' crap (as he called it) in his arms, giving Ann that goofy grin she was growing to love.

"Hey, you," he smiled, stepping in before he leaned down to kiss her, the arm not holding the bag circling her waist. "Miss me?"

"You know it," she laughed, stepping back so that he could come inside. "Shut the door and come in the kitchen, everything's all set. I'm going to show you something my mom taught me to make ages ago. I'm almost positive you'll like it, everyone likes it."

"All righty, then. Apron, too?"

She gave him a look that clearly said, 'yes, idiot', and went into the kitchen as he shut and locked the door. "Come in, take your shoes off, set your stuff out, get the apron on, and wash your hands," she called out as she pulled her own apron on and washed her own hands. Of all the things to be anal about in her kitchen, Ann was very particular about hand washing.

As she dried her hands off, she felt his strong arms going around her waist and smiled, leaning back into his chest. "I was thinking about you this morning," he whispered in her ear, one hand moving down to cup her mound through her skirt. "Couldn't help myself."

"Did you get off without me?" she pouted, tilting her head back to capture his mouth in a kiss. "Selfish man."

He chuckled right in her ear and nipped at her lobe before replying, "Nope. Didn't say I got off. Just said I was thinking about you." Smiling, Ann slipped out of his arms and moved back to the table. "So what are we making today?"

As she glanced at him, she noticed that he'd slipped on that WWE apron again, which really amused her. It made her happy to see that he'd brought it back, since she'd, well, gotten his come all over it last time and had given it to him because of it. Even though she was amused by it, she just hadn't felt comfortable hanging it near her kitchen, even after washing it.

"That apron really looks good on you, you know," she said, pulling her bowl of ground beef out of the fridge. When he joined her at the table, she stole one quick kiss from him, then smiled. "All right, hands off now, since we're going to be handling meat in a minute. Get a bowl and toss your ground beef into it. Crack an egg into the bowl, then add three tablespoons of the Italian seasoning." Ann added an egg to her own meat, followed by the seasoning, then picked up her bowl of shredded parmesan.

Phil looked at her, then at the bowl of cheese as he measured out the seasoning. "What's the cheese for?" he asked, dumping the ramekin into the bowl. He'd decided that was easier after watching Ann the other night.

"You take a handful of the cheese— No, that's too much, your hands are just so damn huge, put about half of that back. That's better," she instructed, taking her own handful of cheese and dumping it into the bowl. "Drop it in. You'll love this next bit, you're a boy."

"Does it involve breasts?"

"No, but it involves balls." Pulling her bowl closer, Ann bumped her hip against Phil's before diving her hands into the mixture. "You want to combine everything in the bowl. It's easier if you use your hands, since using a spoon can just be a pain and it might not get everything mixed properly."

She'd done this so many times over the years that she didn't have to look at what she was doing, choosing instead to watch Phil's hands, trying not to think about how they'd felt on her breasts last night. "It feels so wrong," he laughed, bumping her hip with his own as he mixed the seasonings and cheese into the meat. "It's like… Brains or something."

"Well, it is meat. The egg makes it slimier, but you need it so that the meat holds its shape as it cooks." Once her bowl was ready, she pulled a chair out from the table with her foot and plopped down, giving him a grin. "Yours looks about done, so go ahead and have a seat."

He gave her a quizzical look and said, "I thought you said something about balls?"

"I did indeed. We're going to be taking the meat mixture and forming it into balls. Now have a seat."

Groaning softly, he maneuvererd a chair out with his own foot and sank into it, looking around before he noticed the deep pan with wire racks arranged in the bottom. "Is that where they're going?" he asked, smiling when she nodded. "And how big do they have to be?"

As Ann patted some of the meat into a ball about an inch and a half in diameter, she gave him a look and said, "Larger than your balls, Phil. You should get a full mouthful of these if you bite into one."

"Hey. You seemed to get a fairly decent mouthful from _my_ balls," he deadpanned, giving her a look. "So what did you decide to make for dessert?" As they rolled the meatballs and placed them on the rack in the pan, he nudged at her ankle with one foot before hooking his ankles around hers. The idea of him wanting to keep a hold of her even now, when their hands were filthy, made her feel like she was sixteen and on her first date again.

She just smiled at him, not wanting him to know how much she liked him already. It had only been a few days, after all. "I thought you weren't much of a dessert guy?" she teased, adding another ball to the rack. "We're going to have brownies. They're very simple, so even you should be able to make them. They also make for good sundaes. And yes, I bought ice cream." The look on his face when she mentioned ice cream was worth it.

Phil added another ball to the pan, asking, "What kind did you get?"

"A pint of mint chocolate chip and a pint of chocolate."

He grinned and patted the last bit of meat from his bowl into another ball, putting it in the tray. "Sounds good to me. So, now what, into the oven?" he continued, glancing at her as he stood up and made his way over to the sink. "For how long?"

Nodding, Ann stood up and took his place at the sink, washing her hands as he kissed her shoulder. "They go in for twenty minutes. Can you throw the pan in for me?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to see that he was already putting them into the oven. He was learning. With a grin on her face, she grabbed a paper towel and dried off her hands, leaning against the sink.

"So." He walked over to her, a sly grin on his face as he put his hands at her sides, leaning in for a kiss. "We've got twenty minutes. I wonder, how on earth can we pass the time?" His hands slipped down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze through her skirt, then he grinned. "Any suggestions?"

"Well, Mr Brooks," she smirked, cocking her head to the side, her hands sliding around to his back, pulling his apron strings loose. "I think we need to lose the aprons, first. And then you need to fuck me. What do you think?"

"I think that's an excellent suggestion," Phil grinned, suddenly picking her up and kissing her firmly, guiding her legs around his waist before carrying her out of the kitchen and into the dining room. "How about on the table this time?" he asked as he sat her down, kissing her slow and sweet, pressing himself against her.

Ann smiled and kissed him again, her hands moving to his belt buckle. "Works for me… But we have to make it quick so that we have time to get the pasta going," she said, getting his belt and fly undone before diving a hand into his jeans, circling it around his cock. "Do you have one?"

He groaned softly, thrusting into her hand as he nodded, kissing her again, one hand cupping the back of her head while laying her down on the table. "Yeah, I pulled one out of the box before I got here," he explained, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the condom, quickly unwrapping it as she eased his quickly stiffening cock out of his jeans. "I had a feeling we'd be doing this pretty quickly. Not that I mind, obviously." He smirked, his mouth finding hers again as he reached under her skirt, hand delving into her panties. "Christ, you're wet already… What, were you playing with yourself before I got here?"

Laughing, she swatted his arm, but moaned as two of his fingers pressed inside of her, his thumb on her clit. "No, you ass, I was just thinking about it all day," she admitted, capturing his mouth in another kiss. "Considering that one of the hottest men on the planet can't seem to keep his hands off of me? Yeah, it's no wonder I'm always turned on lately." She gasped softly, thrusting her hips against his hand, one of her hands sliding up underneath his t-shirt.

"Yeah, well," he laughed, pulling his fingers out of her and easing the condom down onto his shaft. "Maybe next time." The next thing Ann knew, his hands were sliding up her thighs, seeking out her panties, but all he felt was her skin. "Wait… What the…" She blushed when he lifted her skirt and looked down at her. He was looking down at her red, lace thong. "Are you for real?"

"What?" she asked, her cheeks almost as red as her panties, her hands grabbing at her skirt to hike it up around her hips. "Are you the only man in the world who doesn't like thongs?"

He shook his head, but hooked his finger into the tiny slip of material and tugged it aside. "No, I like them just fine," he admitted, stealing a kiss as he pressed himself into her, his hand holding tight to her hip. "Just wasn't expecting a red lace one under that skirt."

As Ann moaned, arching her hips toward him, her legs hooking around him, she asked, "You didn't feel the lace when you stuck your hand up my skirt?" She smirked at him, carding a hand through his hair before kissing him again.

Laughing softly, he rolled his eyes and started to thrust a little harder, the table creaking slightly underneath them. "Nah, I felt the lace, but some girls have lacy panties that aren't thongs," he teased, kissing at her neck. She was so glad he'd shaved after that first class… Maybe he could be talked into going down on her again tonight.

It probably wouldn't take much convincing. He had a tiny (okay, not so tiny) oral fixation.

The sex was quick, leaving them both panting after he'd come inside the condom, resting on his elbows as he kissed her. She'd gasped out his name when she hit her own orgasm, her fingers digging into his back through the material of his t-shirt. After he'd kissed her, he pulled out and took off the condom, knotting it. "That was fun," she grinned, sitting up and sliding her hand under his shirt before stealing another kiss.

"That was fun," he laughed, holding onto his jeans with one hand as he padded back into the kitchen, tossing the condom away before he buckled his belt and zipped up his fly. "I love that kind of sex… The need-to-touch-you-now-screw-the-clothes kind." When he looked back at Ann, she'd already slipped off the table and adjusted her panties and was shimmying in place to get her skirt to fall just right. "You look cute when you do that."

She smiled and walked over to him, her hands behind her back, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his mouth. "And you look cute when you smile at me like that," she replied, giving him a sweet smile. "So shall we wash our hands and get back to cooking?"

Shaking his head, Phil laid a gentle swat on her ass before brushing past her to get to the sink. "How much longer do the meatballs need to be in there?" he asked as he lathered and rinsed his hands.

"Well, that didn't take that long, so probably another fifteen minutes, maybe a little longer." Ann quickly washed her hands before grabbing a paper towel to dry them off. "Do me a favour and take the pot off the table and fill it about three-quarters of the way with water, then put it on the stove, the flame medium height? While that boils, I'll show you how to make sauce."

He didn't answer her question, so she darted her eyes up to his across the stove, but he didn't return the eye contact. His eyes were slightly glazed and he was staring lower, at her mouth.

"Oh. You're not listening to me at all, are you? You're just staring at my mouth. Probably imagining me sucking your cock, huh?"

At that, his eyes widened and he looked into her eyes. Ann couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, so _some_ of my words are getting through to you, they just have to be the right ones."

He rubbed his hand over his hair as he gave a sheepish look. "Sorry. I meant to pay attention, but god, your mouth. It's so sexy."

"So will you fill that pot with water and put it on a medium flame, then come here so I can show you how to make the sauce?"

Phil nodded and did as he was told, glancing at her as he fiddled with the controls for the burner. "Stupid question, but doesn't sauce just come in a jar?" he asked, laughing and ducking the dish towel that she threw at his head, grabbing his apron and tugging it on over his head, considering that she'd put hers back on. "I'm kidding! You know I was kidding!" He picked up the towel and crossed over to her, draping it over the back of a chair. "So. The sauce. And not the kind that just went into the condom. Hey!" he laughed, grabbing at her hands when she started swatting at him.

"Come on, cut it out," Ann laughed, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I'm trying to get everything done at the same time, and I can't do that with you being the adorable idiot you are sometimes."

"Adorable, huh?"

"Oh, stop denying it, you know you are."

"Yeah, well. I try to be humble, but you just make it so difficult," he grinned, leaning down to catch her lips in a kiss. "So, the sauce. How do we make it?" She raised her eyebrow at him, as if waiting for him to make a pervy comment, but he smiled and restrained himself.

"It's pretty simple. I've never had to quantify the ingredients before, so I'm just guessing, really," she explained, pulling the cans and spice jars close to her, taking a deep breath before picking up the can opener. "This was my gran's sauce recipe. She made it, my mom makes it, and I make it. I don't give this to just anyone. So feel special."

He smiled and nodded, then watched her as she explained how much of what to put into the second pot she had sitting on the table. The recipe was special to her, as she'd explained. With most things, she was perfectly fine sharing how to make it. This was one of those exceptions that she didn't want just anyone having. Call it selfish, but she just didn't want anyone she didn't care about having her grandmother's sauce recipe. It felt weird admitting to herself that she cared enough about Phil to teach him how to make it, even if he'd likely forget anyway.

"Okay," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Now we put this on the stove on a low flame. You heat it slowly and after a while, taste it. If it's too acidic or too bland, you can fix that. But once you get it to where you want it, you let it simmer, so that it cooks slowly and evenly. All right?"

He nodded and stole a kiss before picking up the pot without being asked and putting it on the stove. There was a brief pause before he asked, "That flame okay?"

"Looks about right. So, while that goes, we can start on the dessert."

"Does dessert involve getting you naked and more orgasms?" Phil teased, crossing over to her and kissing her slowly, his hands on her hips.

She couldn't help it. His kisses were addictive. Still, Ann eased out of it, nipping gently at his bottom lip. "No, dessert does not involve getting me naked and more orgasms, at least not at this point," she grinned, kissing him again. "Dessert involves you turning the oven on and me showing you how to make brownies."

The pout he gave her was adorable, but she raised an eyebrow at him and added, "Don't make me get out the wooden spoon."

"Don't brownies just come out of a bag? That's easy to make."

Having opened the fridge to get the eggs out, she spun around to face him, one hand on the fridge and the other on her hip. "Phillip. Why on earth would I use a mix when brownies are one of the easiest desserts to make?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. "I don't use mixes if I can avoid it. That's the whole reason I went to culinary school. Besides, brownies are insane, there's only six ingredients."

He blinked and looked at her as she handed him three eggs. "Really?" he asked, putting the eggs on the table and watching her as she sprayed down an oblong baking pan that she'd already lined with tin foil. "What's with the foil?"

"Yes, really," she laughed, glancing at him. "It's sugar, chocolate, butter, vanilla, flour, and eggs. You can add nuts, but I'm not a big fan of them."

"You seem to like mine just fine," he smirked as she handed him four squares of chocolate. "What do I do with this?"

"I like yours because they make sex with you possible. If you did not have your nuts, you would be a eunuch and therefore, we would be incapable of having sex together," Ann deadpanned, giving Phil a look as she dropped a stick and a half of butter into a glass bowl. "Unwrap the squares, break them in half, and drop them in this bowl. This is my all-time favourite brownie recipe."

He snapped the squares into halves, tossing them into the bowl, and then looked at her. "Put the bowl in the microwave for a minute, then take it out and give it a quick stir. Put it back in for another thirty seconds or so, just until the butter's completely melted," she instructed, walking over to a drawer to get a spatula as he stuck the bowl into the microwave. The next thing she knew, he was behind her and his hand was under her skirt, giving it a firm squeeze, his voice in her ear.

"You're being awfully sassy tonight, Miss Ann," he said, his breath warm on her skin as he took the spatula from her. "Maybe I should give you a couple of swats with this. See if I can make your butt match your panties. What do you think?"

Blushing a bit, Ann looked at him over her shoulder and rubbed her ass against his crotch. "Only if I get to spank you, too, since you're being just as sassy as I am Mr CM Punk." As she leaned in for a kiss, his hand still on her ass under her skirt, the microwave suddenly beeped and she groaned softly. "You should go check on that… You can take me to task for sassing you later." Smirking, she slipped out of his arms and went back to the table, measuring out the sugar and flour.

"Besides," she said, giving him a mischievous smile. "I don't use my kitchen utensils for anything besides cooking."

"So I couldn't use this thing to tease your nipples?" Phil asked, holding up a silicone basting brush he'd spotted hanging under the cabinet. Shaking her head, she took the bowl out of the microwave, handed it to him, and stuck the spatula in his hand.

"Stir until the chocolate's completely melted."

He leaned against the table, carefully stirring the butter and chocolate so that it didn't splash everywhere, but looked at her thoughtfully. "So the pasta sauce is your grandmother's recipe?" he asked, watching as she smiled faintly and nodded. "If you don't give it to everyone, why are you giving it to me?"

A brief silence fell between them before she admitted, "I don't really know. It was the first thing I thought of when I was trying to decide what we should make tonight. I didn't question showing you how to make it, so I decided to just go with it." She looked down at her apron, fidgeting a bit with the strings, which she'd crossed over in front of herself, then turned to the sauce to give it a stir before dumping a box of spaghetti into the boiling pot of water next to it. "I don't know." Shrugging, she stepped over to him and, in an effort to change the subject, looked at the pool of melted butter and chocolate in the bowl. "That looks good. You can put it on the table now."

Phil did just that, but he slid an arm around Ann's waist and pulled her close, kissing her softly. "I'm sorry about your grandmother. Thank you for showing me how to make her sauce," he murmured, kissing her again. "Is it weird that we fucked on the table and have been flirting so much while we're making it?"

That brought a smile to Ann's face and she laughed, shaking her head. "My grandmother was just as open about sex as I am. She'd probably applaud me for boning someone as handsome as you," she smiled, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she gave him another kiss. "Not weird at all. I promise."

"Okay. So what next with the brownies?"

"Well, first, I want you to taste the sauce," she grinned, guiding him back over to the stove. "Give it a stir, then taste it. Like I said, if it's too acidic, add a little sugar. If it's too bland, add some more seasoning."

He took the spoon in hand and stirred the sauce, then tasted a bit of it. His eyes widened and he looked at her. "You know, if you learned this from your grandmother, it's probably a good thing she's not around anymore, I might have had to give her a call and see what she's doing tonight," he said, his expression completely straight.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "See if you get any after dinner," she retorted, turning back to the table. "If you like it, just cover it and let it simmer, then come here."

A moment later, he was at her side, his hand drifting down to her ass again.

"Okay, so, everything's measured out for you. You take the sugar, which is this one, and pour it into the chocolate and butter, then stir it in. Add the three eggs, then the vanilla, and finally the flour. Once it's smooth, pour it into the pan. Got it?"

"So basically, just take all this and stick it in the bowl."

"Pretty much."

"Right. And what are you doing?"

The timer on the oven dinged and she smiled. "I'm adding the meatballs to the sauce," she said, moving back to the stove and grabbing a potholder before pulling the pan of meatballs out. "When I was away at college, before I decided culinary was a better idea, my mom came to visit me once and she brought me a giant tupperware container full of these meatballs. My roommate and I were eating them for days. We were so thrilled."

As Phil stirred in the eggs, he looked at the pan and licked his lips. "They look amazing," he admitted. "Are the smaller ones mine?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure you don't handle your own balls very often."

Thankfully, he waited until Ann had set the pan down before he reached out and smacked her on the ass again.

She just rolled her eyes and grabbed a pair of tongs, carefully extracting the meatballs from the wire racks and placing them into the pot of sauce.

"So what's with the racks?" he asked as he scraped the brownie batter into the pan. "And why's the pan got foil in it?"

"The racks are so that some of the fat will drain out of the meatballs as they cook and they won't be so greasy," she explained, adding the rest of the balls to the pot. "And the foil in the brownie pan is so that we can just pull that out and cut them into squares instead of leaving them in the pan." She crossed to the sink and stuck the pan in before turning on the hot water and adding some dish soap so that it could soak. "Go ahead and put that in the oven, then give the sauce pot a stir and check on the pasta, will you?"

"Nag, nag, nag," he teased, stealing a kiss as he went to the stove to put the brownies in and she gave the meatball pan a quick once over with a scraper. "How long does the sauce take to cook?"

"Not much longer. It should be ready by the time the pasta is. I also have a salad in the fridge."

Glancing at her before looking down at the pasta. "I think this is just about ready. Got the strainer out?"

"It's called a colander, darling, and yes, it's in the sink."

He pulled on a pair of pot holders before picking up the pasta pot, carefully taking it over to the sink and slowly dumping it into the colander. "See, this I know how to do. It's everything else, anything more complex than pasta and microwaveable shit, that I'm learning how to do," he explained, giving the colander a toss with one hand.

"I remember," she grinned, stealing a kiss before she went to the fridge to get the salad out. "Aw, shit."

"What?"

"I forgot to get garlic bread from the bakery."

Phil carried the pot back over to the stove and set it down, looking around before Ann handed him a chunk of butter to stir into the pasta. "That's okay, we don't need garlic bread," he grinned. "Besides, with all of this stuff to eat already, I might be in a food coma afterward and incapable of fucking you properly."

She turned to him, the container of salad in one hand and a bottle of balsamic vinaigrette in the other, and smiled. "If you can't fuck me properly after dinner, then we'll just watch a movie. We don't always have to have sex, you know," she admitted, setting the container down before getting plates and bowls from the cabinet. "You can turn the sauce off as well." As she prepared the salad bowls, she heard him moving around, then felt his arms around her waist again, holding her close.

"So what kind of salad is that?" he asked, kissing the crook of her neck. "It looks interesting."

"It's spinach with strawberries, artichokes, prosciutto and goat cheese. And there's a balsamic vinaigrette to go on top."

He paused, gently stroking her belly with his thumb, and admitted, "All right, that sounds kind of good. I'll give it a try."

An hour later, they were curled up on the couch, his arm around her as she snuggled into his side, one of Eddie Izzard's specials on TV. "Those meatballs and the sauce were amazing," he sighed, holding her close, a lightweight blanket pulled over their bodies. "And that salad was pretty good, too."

"What'd you think of the brownies?" she yawned, leaning up for a kiss. "You ate, like, three of them."

"I loved them, I thought they were great. I can't wait to take one to my mom."

"I'm sure she'll love them," Ann grinned, curling a little closer to him as she took the remote and put it on the coffee table before slipping into his lap, kissing him again. "Think you're up to sexy times?"

He smiled as she slid a hand over his hair, kissing him again. "I think I could be persuaded," he grinned, his hands sliding under her skirt to cup her ass. "How about we go to the bedroom?" Phil kissed her forehead, then her ear, before he pulled the blanket away, setting it on the sofa. "Hm?"

She grinned and kissed his nose, her arms hooking around his shoulders. "Bedroom sounds good."

With that, he stood up from the couch, her in his arms, and carried her off to the bedroom, the room they'd spent several hours in over the last few days.

He sat her down on the bed and kissed her slowly, teasingly, as he took hold of the waistband of her skirt and panties, tugging them down. "I want you naked this time," he said, leaning down to kiss her thigh. "Hope you don't mind."

A fond smile crossed her face as she started to pull his t-shirt over his head, fluffing his hair up in the process. "I don't mind at all," she admitted, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him close, nosing at his cheek. "Just so long as you're naked with me." She was glad now that she hadn't made the bed, since she hated fucking on top of the covers.

As she fussed with his belt buckle and fly, getting them open and pushing them down, he managed to get her shirt off, followed by the red lace bra that matched her panties. His jeans and belt landed on the floor with a thunk and he reached for the box on the nightstand, the condoms he'd brought over and she'd stashed there while he was eating his third brownie.

"Stay with me tonight? After?" she asked, touching his cheek as he settled on top of her, his cock hard against her thigh.

He smiled.

"Of course."

Ann took the foil packet, carefully ripping it open before taking the latex out and rolling it down onto Phil's shaft, smiling at the way it made him moan. A lot of guys bitched about condoms, but Phil didn't seem to mind one bit. She kissed him again, pulling him down to kneel between her legs, guiding his cock down to where she needed it.

"That what you want?" he teased, kissing her pulse point as he settled on his elbows, one little wiggle of his hips getting the head of his cock just barely inside of her. "You want that in you?"

"Oh, come on," she laughed, sliding her hands down his back, settling her feet flat on the bed to lift her hips up to him. "You know I want that."

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Tell me what you want," sending a shiver straight down her spine. The idea of just rolling over and taking him inside flitted through her mind, but she pushed it aside, choosing instead to play along.

"I want you to put your cock inside me and fuck me," she said, kissing his jawline. "I want you to make me come so hard I see stars. Think you can do that for me, Phil?"

She felt more than heard the way he growled, considering that her lips were on his throat, and she smirked when he said, "I'll sure as hell give it a try."

With that, he slipped his cock inside of her, making her moan, her back arching as he filled her. Her nails dug into his sides as he started to thrust slowly, rocking himself in and out, his own right hand sliding up her stomach as he lowered his mouth to her breasts, covering each of them in kisses.

Her head lolled back onto the pillows, her hands sliding over his muscular back, legs hooking around his waist as his hand cupped the back of her thigh, guiding it up a little higher. Of all the times that they'd had sex over the last few days (which had, admittedly, been a rather high number), this was by far the most tender she'd seen him be. At least during the actual sex part. It made her heart ache, especially when she considered the fact that they weren't dating and were pretty much just fuck buddies.

Even if he had agreed to stay the night.

She pushed it out of her mind and focused on what he was doing, his mouth working on one of her nipples, his cock driving in and out of her, that strong hand having drifted between her legs, fingers working her clit. He shifted, thrusting a little harder as his left hand slid underneath her, suddenly gathering her to him as he sat back on his heels, holding her in his lap as he kept thrusting.

"Oh god, Phil," she gasped, holding tight to his shoulders, moaning before she caught his mouth in a kiss, one hand cupping the back of his head. "That feels so good…"

"Feels good for me, too," he laughed, his voice breathless as he kissed her again. He moaned and slid a hand down to grasp her ass, fingers digging into the flesh. "Christ, you always feel so fucking good when we do this." He kissed her throat before biting gently at the swell of her breast, since he knew that she didn't want marks anywhere, just in case she went to the beach.

His thrusts came harder, faster, pushing her up off of his lap as she rocked on her knees, essentially riding him in that awkward position. She could feel the tension in her lower belly and knew she'd be coming soon. She couldn't help it. Phil just did things to her.

He gripped her hair firmly and just barely pulled on it as he caught her mouth in a kiss, that sudden expression of lust pushing her over the precipice into her orgasm, tearing her mouth away from his as she cried out, bucking in his lap. Before she was through, he laid her back down and kissed her roughly, still fucking her hard as he took her hands and loosely pinned them above her head. They'd had that discussion, the one about restraint, when he'd joked about pinning her to the wall and doing her right there by the front door of her apartment, and she'd told him the truth; that she hated to be restrained with no way of getting herself out.

Their mouths parted and her eyes met his again, watching him as he thrust inside of her, his thumb pressing against her wrist. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, nipping at her chin before kissing her hungrily, his hips stuttering as he neared his own climax. He grunted and thrust in all the way, balls deep, and she winced slightly as he buried his face in her breasts. He was a little too deep for her liking, but they could discuss that later. Right now, she wiggled her wrists out of his grip and gently slid her hands down the curve of his back, kissing his hair.

"So are you," she whispered, pressing another kiss to the sweaty fluff on top of his head. "Even if a guy shouldn't be called beautiful!" Her words ended in a squeal of laughter as he started tickling her, his hand brushing over her hip, her most ticklish spot, the only one she couldn't control. "Okay, okay, I give!" She laughed and kissed him again. "Get rid of the condom and c'mere, all right?"

Settling back down onto the bed, she sighed softly and watched as he rolled over off of her, rubbing his face with one hand before he disposed of the latex and carefully cleaned himself up. The next thing she knew, he was shifting back to her, kissing her shoulder as he turned her onto her side, pulling her tight against his chest, his arm around her waist.

"Think maybe we might need to do something other than cook and fuck," he admitted, tapping lightly on her belly with his fingers. "What do you think?" She nodded, her eyes falling shut as she enjoyed the feel of being in his arms. "Maybe we could," he pressed another kiss to her shoulder, "go to the cape this weekend. Do you have the time free?"

She smiled and nodded, covering his large hand with her smaller one.

"I do. And maybe I can show you some tricks for the grill."

A weekend away. With a man she'd known less than a week. Call her an idiot, but it just felt… Right. Besides, summer would be over soon. What better way to end it with a bang than by spending Labor Day weekend at the cape with the sexiest man alive?

Shit.

She had to get a new bathing suit.


	3. Chapter 3

**hope you like the new chapter don't forget to review, love you beauties :* **

To: Ann

From: Phil

So, uh, my mother has decided that she and the rest of the family are coming with us to the Cape. That okay with you?

To: Phil

From: Ann

That sounds…terrifying.

To: Ann

From: Phil

It's not like they're going to tear you apart and eat you, Ann.

To: Ann

From: Phil

Please say yes? It'll be fun. Besides, I really want you to meet my family, especially my sisters. They're dying to meet the woman who made it possible for me to make dinner dinner for once.

Ann stared at the text message with a sheepish smile. They hadn't been dating, or whatever it was that they were doing, for the longest time—to be more specific, less than a week—and she felt it was too soon to meet his family. Phil hadn't exactly asked her to be his girlfriend; they were more like let's-have-a-quick-fuck-while-the-food-is-cooking buddies. It was awkward for her to attend a family activity as _the instructor who was teaching Phil how to cook_ and nothing else.

With a sigh, she replied to the text message, giving her approval. Ann set her phone down on her dresser and ignored the incoming alert, choosing instead to jump into the shower. Even though she'd shaved the day before, she felt the need to do it again, purely out of anxiety.

_Oh hi, my name is Ann. Not only am I teaching your son how to cook, but I'm fucking him senseless as well. It's nice to meet you. _She scoffed sarcastically at the thought she had just processed in her mind. After the shave, she stood under the shower head, trying to calm her nerves as the warm water cascaded down her body. A knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. _How on earth is Phil here already? _Ann shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towel hanging on the hook behind the door. She draped it around her wet body and stepped out of the bathroom, water dripping down her back from her hair.

"IT'S OPEN," Ann yelled as she went inside her bedroom, removing the towel and quickly drying off, giving her hair a quick once-over before tossing the towel onto the bed. She walked over to her dresser and leaned forward, opening the middle drawer. It took a moment of searching under the pile of neatly folded clothes, but she found her brand new bathing suit. She'd picked it up yesterday evening and thought it was daring enough for a trip away with… whatever Phil was to her. It was a backless two piece in a floral print and she thought he'd like the sight of her in it.

"Baby got back," Phil teased, leaning his tall body against the door frame. His bulky arms crossed at the chest as his lips curled up into a crooked smile.

She rolled her eyes before retorting, "Look who's talking, Mr CM Punk." Phil sat on the edge of her bed and lay back, where he came to rest his upper body's weight on both elbows. His eyes travelled from the top of Ann's head all the way down to her legs, absorbing every little detail he hasn't seen before. "I love your fresh-out-of-the-shower skin."

Turning around, holding the bathing suit in her hand, Ann closed the drawer with a bump of her hip. "And why's that?" She was across from him now, her eyes intently on his as she slipped on the bottom of her suit.

"Because you smell delicious. It makes me want to eat you out," Phil smirked.

"Not with that scruff," Ann smirked back.

He rolled his eyes. "So…" He began, breaking his eye contact with Ann to look around her room casually as she pulled her backless top over her head. She walked over to Phil, holding the material tight to her chest, and sat on his lap, her back to him.

"Could you tie my bathing suit?"

"Depends. Are you blowing me after this?"

"Phillip…" Ann hissed. "Just tie the damn suit."

"You're not only sassy but feisty." He pushed her damp hair over her shoulder and grabbed each end of the strings. He manipulated the strings, reintroducing his train of thought. "So…I might have, or not, depending on your reaction, told my mom that you are my girlfriend."

That should have bothered Ann, but for some reason, it didn't. Everything with Phil fell into place and made sense. It felt right. She felt her cheeks flush as she looked over her shoulder with a smile on her face. "Since when am I your girlfriend?"

"Since this morning, if you want to be." Phil gave the strings one last finishing tug, just so it wouldn't fall off, before pecking her lips. "What do you say?"

"What do you think?" she smiled, leaning back to kiss him again, one hand cupping his cheek.

_—_

_off to the cape w the fam! _Sending tweet…

"Why are you giggling?" Ann asked, waiting for Phil to turn on the engine to leave for the family get-together.

"I just tweeted," he replied, a cheesy smile on his face as he set his phone down between his legs and started the car.

She furrowed her eyebrows together, not understanding what was so funny about tweeting. "…Is there a joke I'm not getting?"

He opened the glove compartment and pulled out his mirrored sunglasses. "If you check my Twitter page, you'll realize I barely update and when I do, all hell breaks loose amongst my fans." And with that, he slipped on his sunglasses before driving away.

"So in other words, you like to make your fans suffer."

"I'm not competent with technology. Besides, what's the need to update my Twitter every single day, all the time, when I can be mister mystery man?"

"Luddite," Ann mused, a fond note in her voice.

"Smart-ass," Phil laughed.

She scoffed, crossing her arms at the chest. "Troglodyte."

"Stop outsmarting me with your big words! Don't make me pull this car over and smack your ass!" he threatened, the tone of his voice clearly belying the tease in his threat.

"Darling, if you did, you wouldn't be sitting comfortably, either." Ann stated matter-of-factly as she retrieved the wooden spoon out of her purse, waving it in his general direction before smacking it against her palm.

He let out a small laugh, his eyes focused on the road. "Oh, please, the last time you smacked me with one of those, it snapped."

"How is it my fault your ass is so muscular?"

"How is it my fault your ass isn't?"

She tossed the wooden spoon into the back seat, rolling her eyes. "Ahem," she cleared her throat. "See if you get head tonight, dear."

Phil tightened his grasp around the steering wheel, fighting the urge to respond to her last statement.

—

The sun was bright and mighty up above in the sky; clouds were not its company today, although it was joined by a few birds flying here and there. Cape Cod was, for the most part, isolated. There were a few small families scattered around the fenced beach. Ann smiled at the image of a father chasing his boy and his girl, around the shoreline. The mother giggled, holding her digital camera, ready to capture the moment forever.

"Is this spot okay with you?" Phil asked, as he settled their belongings on the sand. When he didn't get a reply, he glanced in her direction, noticing how she admired the surroundings. He half smiled and approached her from behind, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, pressing his lips on the crook of her neck before settling his chin on top of her shoulder.

"Hey you," Ann said softly, turning her head sideways to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Want to get in the water?"

"Sure."

Phil let go of her, quickly removing his shirt as she stripped off down to her bathing suit. The couple kicked off their flip-flops and raced to the water, mostly to avoid the hot sand. He easily scooped Ann up into his arms and walked forward, into the water, until it came up to his thighs.

"Let's go deeper," she suggested, hooking an arm around his shoulders as he held her.

"Is that supposed to be innuendo?" he grinned as he walked further from the shore.

The water was now a few inches underneath his pectorals. He repositioned Ann's legs, wrapping them around his waist, sliding both of his hands up from the back of her thighs, finally stopping on the curve of her ass. Because it was a windy day, the water rocked the area between her inner thighs against his crotch. She wasn't aware of the motion until she felt his bulge on the rise against her.

"What are you doing?" he hissed in her ear.

"I'm not doing anything." Ann replied. "It's the water's doing." She purposefully rocked her hips against his arousal on purpose this time. Phil crashed his lips against hers as his hands firmly grasped her butt. "Hey," Ann suddenly said, breaking away from the kiss. "Keep this PG."

"Phillip!" a female voice called, catching their attention. Phil looked over his shoulder to find his sister, whom I think was Chez, waving at him, his family trailing along behind her with their belongings. He reluctantly pulled one hand away from Ann and raised it into the air, waving to his sister.

"Shit," Phil muttered under his breath. "What a convenient time to get a boner."

"Well," she smirked, sliding her legs down as she cupped his bulge through the fabric of his trunks, slipping away from him. "That's too bad, Brooks. Hope you don't get another accidental boner when I get out of the water." She giggled and dove into the water, swimming away towards the shore. Phil followed behind her and eventually caught up to her. As they moved into shallow water, a quick glance at her boyfriend told her that he was 'family appropriate' now, probably due to the water.

"You must be Ann!" exclaimed the woman who had called out for Phil, a heart-warming smile on her face. Ann presumed she was Phil's sister.

"I am," Ann nodded, returning the smile. "You're Chez, right?"

"You are correct. I'm excited to meet the beautiful lady who is teaching Phil how to cook. This goob right here," Chez cocked her thumb at Phil, peering at him over her Ray-Bans sunglasses, "is thirty-one years old and doesn't know how to cook. Thanks to you, he was able to prepare a delicious plate of chicken breasts." Ann choked on her own saliva at the sound of 'chicken breasts.' "Oh, dear, are you alright? Did you swallow some water?" Chez patted Ann's back gently, helping her to regain her composure. Phil stifled a giggle, one hand raised to his mouth.

"I'm fine now, thanks," Ann assured Lisa as the older woman put her arm around Ann's shoulder, rubbing the curve of it. "Let's go meet the rest of the family."

Chez took her time to present her family to Ann. Every single member welcomed her with open arms and congratulated her for teaching Phil how to finally cook after being a mama's boy for so many years. Ann loved the fact that Phil's own flesh and blood was poking fun at him, considering the fact that she'd been teasing him since the day she met him. Phil laughed along with Colt who tagged along and sisters, poking at the ribs, every now and then, of the sibling who was making fun of him.

Chez's husband tended the grill with the hot dogs and hamburgers, while Cassie rubbed sunblock on her four-year old son. Eventually, an announcement was made that the food was ready to be eaten and the family descended upon the table set up near the grill. The table contained neatly placed buns, vegetables and a variety of dressings. Ann observed how the family helped each other with the food and how synchronized they were. It amazed her how they didn't made a mess out of everything on the table like others already would have. Once everyone had their plates lined up with their choice of food, they all joined each other in the circle of beach chairs.

"Ann, would you like to hear stories of Phil from when he was a teenager?" Chez's mum asked before taking a sip of her water bottle.

"Maaaa," Phil whined.

Ann looked a Phil with a smug look on her face and replied, "I would love to." The look on his face was priceless.

She set her water bottle in the pocket located on the chair's arm, running a hand over her hair. "Let's see…"

"Oh ma!" Chaleen chimed in. "Tell the playboy story."

"Chaleen!" Phil yelled, turning to his mother with a pleading look on his face. "Ma, c'mon. Ann doesn't need to know this."

"Stop being such a baby." Colt taunted.

"Kids, settle down." Chez's mom commanded, waiting until the banter had mostly stopped. "Anyway, it had been a couple of months since Phil left home when this happened. I picked him up from his friend's house and I noticed that Phil had this cheesy smile on his face. I knew something happened because I know that devious smile of his so well. So, I asked him, 'what's going on?' and he told me, 'well, I looked at a magazine.'" Everyone at the entire table were trying to suppress their laughter, except for Phil who remained sat on his chair with his face buried in his hand. Ann grinned and reached over, taking his other hand and squeezing it tight. "I asked him, 'what sort of magazine?' and he told me 'I saw a Playboy'. When he told me this, I was at loss for words." She let out a small laugh and she reminisced about that moment. "I asked him 'well, what did you think about that?' Phil had this big toothy grin on his face and he replied with—"

"I LIKED IT," ' his sisters finished, in unison with their mother. Ann and the family, except for Phil who was blushing behind his hand, his cheeks nearly tomato red at this point, broke into a chorus of laughter.

The family exchanged childhood stories for the rest of the afternoon. Ann was certainly enjoying herself. Meeting her partner's family was always a scary thought for her. _What if they don't like me? What if his mom hates me? What if I don't fit in? _It wasn't like that with his family. Everyone was close and, clearly, very open with each other about anything. Ann found it amusing how Phil raced to his house to share with Chez about his first sexual encounter in his senior year or how Phil had to ask nicely to play with his sister's ponies whenever he went round to Chez's when he was younger.

The family eventually decided to go in the water, but Ann and Phil stayed behind on the chairs.

"Okay, I'm in love with your family," Ann smiled, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Yeah well, my family is something else. I'm lucky to have them, especially my mom." Phil glanced at his family splashing around in the water. "Want to go for a walk?"

"That sounds nice."

Phil got up from the chair and helped her up. He threw a blanket over his shoulder and interlaced his fingers with Ann's before pulling her along with him towards the water. From that point onward, they walked away from the family, following the shoreline's trail. The cool water crashed beneath their feet. The couple was a good twenty-five feet away from the family. Phil saw a ten-foot tall rock, resting near the coastline, and gave Ann a grin before he ran for it. The rock was tall and wide enough to block the family's view of the couple. He set the blanket down on the sand before he pulled her down onto it, holding her close, facing the ocean with the calm waves approaching the shoreline.

"Phil?" Ann turned her head, to look at Phil. "I'm glad your family tagged along on this trip. I had a really nice time with them."

He smiled and leaned his face closer to hers, pressing his lips against hers. Ann cupped either side of his neck as their lips danced, slow and passionate. He placed his hands on her back loosening the knots he made earlier back at her house, taking a moment before he eased the material away from her body, settling it on the blanket. He placed one hand at the back of her neck and the other on the small of her back, leaning her back gently on the blanket.

Phil slid her bikini bottom down her legs and piled it with the top, then kissed her inner thighs as gently as he could, working his way up to her abdomen. His kisses were sweet and gentle on her sun-flushed skin. His plump lips reached her clavicle, followed by the nook of her neck; he trailed off to her jawline, grazing the skin along it with his lips. The rate Ann's breathing was gradually increasing as Phil's lips neared hers. Her heart thumped hard within her chest, heat coiling inside of her. This was new, scary, and altogether exciting. It was, to be honest, a feeling she had never encountered before with her previous partners. It was intoxicating.

Phil's middle finger slid between her wet folds, slowing easing inside of her. Their lips skated against each other, as he worked another finger into her, his thumb rubbing her sensitive bud as his fingers slowly pumped in and out. When Phil felt she was wet enough, he pulled away and shimmied out of his trunks, retrieving a condom from the side pocket. She had no idea when he'd put it there, but she hoped it hadn't been in the ocean with them. It was sterile inside anyway. He broke the foil carefully and seized the condom, sliding it onto his arousal.

He knelt between Ann's legs, holding his shaft in his hand right on her entrance. Phil inched his pelvis against Ann's as slow as he could, his length sliding easily inside of her. He exhaled loudly as her warmth enclosed around his base. Ann suppressed the moan that wanted to escape out of her open mouth but she couldn't bring herself to it. Her eyes eased shut, allowing her to savour the moment, to fully enjoy the fact that she was making love with a gorgeous man on the beach. This was a total fantasy come to life.

She felt Phil's torso on hers, his lips on her ear. His arousal was fully in, but he didn't move yet, and she wasn't sure why. "Ann?" he whispered. He felt the tip of her fingers caressing his muscular back from his shoulder blades all the way down to his lower back, her nails lightly scratching at his skin.

"Hmm?" she murmured, her eyes remaining shut.

"Is it okay for me to start moving?"

"Yes…" Her voice trailed off as she felt Phil's length moving in and out of her, building a steady, unhurried pace as he met her lips again. She moaned faintly against his lips as her nails dug along his back, probably leaving some red marks behind.

Phil continued with that pace as he felt Ann's muscles tightening around him, grazing his lips on her forehead, along her temple, down to her jawline. Seconds later, Ann opened her mouth in a silent cry as she contracted around Phil's shaft in orgasm, prompting him to come seconds later inside of her, in the condom. Phil's rocking motion progressively slowed until it ceased, his mouth finding hers again in a slow, tender kiss. He pulled himself off of her and carefully removed the condom, wrapping the end in a tight knot before tossing it aside. Ann lay on her side, the front of her body parallel to the beach.

The sky now had shades of light orange-red and pink shades. It looked almost like sherbert because the sun was just beginning to hide far away on the horizon. As Ann admired the beauty of it, Phil settled down behind her, propping himself up on one elbow while pulled her closer to him with his other hand. He pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder before looking at the sky with her. The next thing she knew, his beard was tickling her ear and neck and she heard his voice, soft in her ear.

"_You want love? We'll make it."_ Ann closed her eyes as Phil sang in her ear. "_We'll make it. Swim in a deep sea of blankets. Take all your big plans and break 'em._" He brushed her brown, wavy locks out of her face. "_This is bound to be awhile. Your body is a wonderland._"

And that was when Phil knew that he was not going to let go of the girl laying down next to him on the blanket.


	4. Chapter 4

**more smut, more phil, more sex, idek you call love it :) enjoy, review, favourite, follow, looking forward to Smackdown tonight, and Payback on Sunday - I had a maths exam today, came home early and decided to get straight on this, AND i've even started a NEW fanfic, i'm not sure on it really but, it's not so sexy as this story, but i advise you guys to give it ago just like you did with this one, i'm posting the prologue and chapter 1, so let me know what you think about that as well :) bye guys XO**

Phil's arms wrapped tighter around her thighs, holding Ann still as she tried to thrust up against his face, her moans so loud that they echoed through the whole cabin. She tugged on his hair, whimpering as he devoured her, panting out his name. His tongue delved into her, drawing another orgasm out of her before he finally let go and crawled up, smirking at her.

"Need you on my cock, sweetheart," he growled, pulling her close.

She pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, settling down onto his hard dick, her back arching as she moaned. His hands slid up her thighs and she looked down at him, that goofy, lop-sided grin she'd spent the last four months falling in love with plastered on his face. Her hips started to move, riding him like it was the last thing she'd ever do as she leaned down to kiss him, her hands sliding into his short hair.

And as she kissed him, his hands firmly gripping her hips, the smell of smoke overcame her and she rolled over, landing on the floor with a thud, the sheets and blanket tangled around her legs.

She looked up blearily, but she could still smell smoke. It took her a second, but she managed to extract her legs from the mess of linens, grabbed her glasses, and hurried out of the bedroom, looking around and following the smell. The stronger it got, the more she realized that there was something else besides the smoke. She could smell bacon for whatever reason, and hear Phil cussing up a storm.

Oh, fuck.

He must've tried to cook something.

Padding over to the arch that led to the kitchen, she looked in at him and then covered her mouth with both hands, muffling the giggles. He, and the stove, were covered in baking soda, and the only thing he had on was a pair of comic strip pajama bottoms. The kitchen smelled of burned bacon and he was still cussing, running his hands under water.

"Fucking shit," he muttered, drying off his hands and shutting off the water. "Goddamn fucking bacon, should've just fucking made toast or something stupid like that. Fuck." He threw the dish towel at the sink and leaned against the counter, his bare back and shoulders lightly dusted with baking soda. "Fuck!" He stomped over to the fridge and yanked the door open, looking through what was in there, probably trying to think of something to make for breakfast that didn't involve the stove. It took him a second to spot her out of the corner of his eye and his mouth quirked as if he was trying not to either smile or snap at her.

"I tried."

"Awwww, cutie," she sighed, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him, kissing his cheek. His arms circled her waist and he buried his face in her neck as she heard him huff under his breath. "You're such an idiot sometimes." Kissing him softly, Ann led him over to the table and sat him down. "Let me guess… You were making bacon and weren't paying attention and the grease spilled over and caught fire?"

"Yeah."

"And you freaked out and threw the baking soda on it?"

He looked at her and deadpanned, "How could you tell?"

She smiled and slipped into his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Word of advice? Next time that happens, just throw the lid on the pan," she yawned. "That deprives the fire of oxygen. And by the way, you spoiled a very lovely dream."

His gaze turned back toward her, as it had been on the baking soda-covered pan on the stove, and he asked, "Will you tell me about it after we get everything cleaned up?" Nodding, Ann kissed his forehead, then made a face. "What?"

"You taste like baking soda."

He stuck his tongue out at her and nudged her off of his lap, saying, "We really should clean up."

"We should," she sighed, looking at the mess on the stove. "And then you go take a shower and I'll make some eggs or something. Sound good?"

Phil stood up and slipped a hand into the fleecy Spiderman pajama bottoms she had on. "Sounds good," he grinned. "But I still want you to tell me about that dream I ruined."

Chuckling, Ann stole a kiss and moved away from him, poking through the cabinets until she found the supplies they needed to clean up the baking soda and grease. "Take the pan and scrape everything into the trash, then put it in the sink," she explained, so glad that he'd at least had the sense to throw the baking soda on it and not just tossed water on it or something. That would have been horrible, especially considering that they were renting the cabin for the week.

"So your dream?" Phil asked as he scraped the pan out into the garbage, walking back over to the sink and sticking it into the sink, which Ann had started to fill with warm water and a squirt of Dawn dish soap.

"When we're done."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. Because if I tell you now, you're going to tackle me, and I'd rather not kiss you when you taste like baking soda."

"Fiiine," he huffed.

Once the kitchen was clean again and Phil had gotten himself cleaned up and into clean pajama pants and a t-shirt, Ann was puttering around in the kitchen making some poached eggs and toast while he sat at the table, banned from touching the stove for the moment. "Are you going to tell me about that dream now?" Phil asked, doing the only thing he was allowed to do, which was pour himself a glass of orange juice.

Exhaling slowly, Ann glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, asking, "You promise you won't pounce me until after we have something to eat?"

He covered his heart with one hand and raised the other. "Scout's honor," he grinned.

"You were never a Boy Scout, Brooks."

"Yeah, well. It still works."

She shook her head, smiling fondly, and handed him two pieces of toast when they popped up from the toaster. "It was a dirty dream. You were going down on me and doing that thing with your arms, where you hold me still," she began, glancing at him as she fished an egg out of the pot, putting it on Phil's plate. You made me come three times with your mouth and then I rolled you over and rode you. I'd just gotten your dick in me when I smelled the smoke and fell out of bed."

There was a pause before he started laughing.

"You fell out of bed? Bet that killed the moment," he teased, lightly swatting her ass with a dish towel before he poked at his egg.

"Actually, the fire in the kitchen killed the moment more than falling out of bed did."

He looked down at his toast as he forked a bit of egg into his mouth, mumbling, "I said I was sorry, Ann."

"Oh, honey," she sighed, moving over to him and wrapping her arms around him, kissing his hair. "I know. I was just teasing. I'm just glad you didn't throw water on it."

He slipped an arm around her waist, kissing her stomach before he admitted, "I almost did. Then I remembered you lecturing me about never putting water on a grease fire and was trying to remember what you said to do and I thought you said baking powder, but then I was looking at it and I remembered you showing me a box instead of a can, so I grabbed that and it worked."

Pressing another kiss to his hair, Ann smiled. "Well, at least I know you listen when I'm not saying things like cock or fuck," she laughed, squealing and slipping away when he suddenly tugged the waistband of her pajama bottoms down and bit at her hipbone. "Stop that!" She shook her head and went back to the stove to finish her own breakfast.

His arms slipped around her waist and she felt his stubble against her neck as he kissed it, bringing a smile to her face. "Phil, come on, I'm cooking… You don't want to start another fire, do you?" She couldn't help poking fun at him about the fire. It was an accident and they both knew it, but it would still be good fodder for giving him crap.

"You keep teasing me about that and we'll see if I make that dream come true for you," he purred in her ear, one hand sliding under her Batman t-shirt. "At least I'm not mixing my super-heros."

Ann grinned, managing to get her egg out of the pot without breaking it. "You spend enough time in those trunks, it would be bad enough if you decided to buy a Batman suit."

"Well I was hoping you'd dress up as Poison Ivy," he muttered, stepping away so that she could grab her toast and sit down at the table with him. "You're gonna come see me while I'm on the road, right?"

She nodded and buttered her toast before taking a bite out of it. Considering that it had taken a while to get the kitchen cleaned up and she hadn't eaten since dinner last night, she was famished. "As long as you let me know when, I can make it," she said, taking a sip of the orange juice Phil had poured for her. "There won't be a problem with me coming around, will there?"

Shaking his head, Phil swallowed what he'd been chewing. "Shouldn't be. I'll let you know when I get there, but I doubt it'll be a problem, I mean, I _am _the WWE Champion" he said, glancing out the window at the snow. "I'm just glad we got here before the snow did. Gave us a chance to get food and everything."

"I know… That would've sucked if we hadn't been able to get to the store in town. This was a good idea."

"I know. I thought of it," he smirked, toeing at her ankle. The snow had fallen suddenly the day before, while they were making love and then sleeping in front of the fireplace. They'd been amazed to find that the cabin not only had a fireplace, which the website hadn't disclosed, but an actual bear skin rug in front of it. They'd been even more amazed when they'd woken up to find three feet of snow outside.

Ann rolled her eyes and finished her food, then collected her plate and Phil's, padding over to the sink and dumping them into the soapy water. "You may have thought of it, but I'm the one that found the cabin," she retorted, glancing at him over her shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow and stood up, stalking over to her as she turned around, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That so?"

"It is."

Phil suddenly bent and scooped her up, tossing Ann over his shoulder before turning around and carrying her into the bedroom, ignoring her laughing and her protests to be put down. At least until they reached the bed, where he promptly plopped her down on her butt and smirked at her, leaning down to rest on his hands, kissing her slowly.

"I think… we should go outside," he grinned. "How about it? We can go make snowmen and angels and throw snowballs at each other until we get tired and then come in and cuddle on the couch and watch a movie."

Ann hesitated, looking up at him, her breath slowing down from that kiss. "Phil, there's three feet of snow outside, and _you_ want to _cuddle_?" she asked, her voice flat.

"And the front door goes out onto a raised, covered porch and we can just go right out into the snow, and yes, cuddling."

After studying him for a minute, she grinned. "All right, but if you shove snow down my pants or in my coat, I'm not blowing you until we get back to Chicago," she laughed, kissing him before climbing off the bed and getting changed out of her pajamas. It took her a minute, but she pulled on multiple layers and then hurried into the living room to get her boots on. "Come on, let's go!"

She heard him laugh from the bedroom and looked up just in time to see him coming out, pulling a sweater over his head with a smile. "You sure you're gonna be warm enough in that?" she asked, tying her boots before getting up and heading for the door, grabbing her matching grey cashmere hat and scarf.

"I'm sure. Besides, I have a feeling I'm gonna be chasing you through the snow and that'll work up a sweat." Phil joined her at the door and pulled on his boots, leaning against the wall to get them on. "Plus, you look adorable in that coat." He grabbed her scarf and tugged her close, kissing her briefly, grinning when her cheeks turned pink. Pulling on his own coat, he followed her out onto the porch, where she promptly stole a kiss.

"No icicles, no snow in my clothes. Deal?"

He grinned.

"Deal."

And with that, Ann hurried off of the porch and jumped into the snow. It had been a long, long time since she'd dealt with more than maybe six inches or so of it, but it was that thick, heavy snow that was surprisingly easy to walk on. Yes, it was still slow going, there was no way to walk through snow and not have it be slow, but it was easier than if it was soft and fresh.

A second later, there was a thunk on her shoulder and she turned around, laughing when she saw Phil duck behind one of the posts on the porch. "Oh, come on, that's not fair!" she laughed, bending over to pack a loose snowball, throwing it toward him and hitting him right in the hip.

He called out, "You didn't say the porch was off limits! All's fair in a snowball fight!" as he grabbed some more snow and formed a ball, lobbing it at her, just as she threw one at him and hit him on top of the head.

"Get your ass out here, Brooks!" Ann yelled, throwing another snowball at him. "Get off the porch!"

She leaned down to put together a few more snowballs, but when she looked up, she didn't see him. She couldn't hear him, either, so she turned around slowly, her small arsenal cradled in her arm.

Then he launched himself at her and she hit the snow, laughing as she smushed one of the snowballs on top of his head. He laughed and shook his head, getting the snow off before he kissed her, rubbed some snow into her hat, and got up, hurrying off.

"You bastard!" she laughed, scrambling to her feet and giving chase, managing to tackle him just a few moments later. "You play dirty!" Her mouth landed on his again, moaning softly as she kissed him, one hand creeping between his legs to cop a feel. She heard him moan, felt him arch against her hand, and then she pushed his t-shirt up and shoved a handful of snow onto his belly, laughing when he shrieked like a little girl. "See how you like it!"

Getting up, Ann started to dart away, but hit a slippery patch and landed on her butt, giving Phil the time to recover and get the snow out of his shirt. Before she got up, he was on her, but he was laughing again and kissing her, his hands, covered in wet gloves, framing her face. "I love you," he laughed, kissing the tip of her nose and then helping her to her feet, pulling her into a hug.

"Love you, to— AAHHH!" she screamed, trying to get away from him as he pulled her hat off and squashed a snowball right on top of her head. "That was so not fair!" She was laughing as she complained, but the pout was clear on her face.

"Neither was you rubbing snow on my stomach," he pointed out, brushing some of the snow off of her head. "What do you say, truce?"

He stuck a hand out to her and she eyed it warily.

"Okay, truce," she sighed, shaking his hand before she suddenly yanked him close and pushed him down into the snow, hurrying as much as she could to get closer toward the house. Then she realized what he'd said and turned around to face him. "Wait, did you just say you love me?"

Phil was climbing to his feet, brushing some snow off of his ass as he laughed, "Yeah, did you just now realize that? You said it back, before I got you with the snow."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't rubbed snow in my hair, I still would," she teased, sinking down to her knees near the porch, starting to pull snow together to make the base of a snowman. He joined her a moment later, helping to make it bigger, and she looked at him. "So you love me, huh?"

"I do," he said, giving her a grin as he paused to tug her hat back onto her head. "A lot, actually."

She smiled sheepishly and leaned over to kiss him. "A lot, too." With that, Ann continued patting more snow onto the base as Phil began rolling a large ball for the midsection. "Do we have anything for decorations for it?"

"I'm sure I can grab some sticks from the firebox," he mused, lifting the ball and putting it on top of the base, settling it. "I did find some clothes someone had left behind in the closet when I was looking for the broom, so we can dress it like that if you want." Her hands stilled and she looked at him. "What?"

"Which closet?"

"The front one, why?"

Ann turned beet red and blurted out, "It wasn't a bag from Victoria's Secret, was it?" He simply looked at her, his face unreadable. "I might possibly have brought some new lingerie to show you…"

He smirked and said, "No, it's not a bag from Victoria's Secret, but now I know I'm getting a show tonight. I was wondering what you stuck in there when we got here." Ann tossed some snow in his general direction and he laughed, leaning in for another kiss before they settled the head on top of the body. "I know, I know. I'm a jerk."

"At least you're cute."

"I know," Phil laughed, stealing another kiss. "What say we head inside and warm up? We need to figure out what we're doing with this dude here anyway."

"Why does it have to be a dude? Why can't it be a snow-woman?" she teased, taking his hand and heading back up to the porch with him, her heart all aflutter at the idea of him loving her as much as she loved him.

He snorted and shook his head, deadpanning, "We're going to wind up making another one, I just know it."

After stepping back into the cabin and taking off their boots and wet clothes, Ann padded back to the bedroom to put her pajamas back on while Phil got the fire going again. That was the only fire he was allowed to touch today, as far as she was concerned. Once she was comfy, she headed back to kitchen to get some milk heated for hot chocolate. Even though they'd agreed to make another snowman, she had a feeling they wouldn't be heading back out into the snow today.

When Phil joined her in the kitchen and popped some graham crackers and marshmallows and chocolate into the microwave to make s'mores, she gave him a look.

"What?"

"You just got that fire going and you're going to microwave the marshmallows? Really, Phil? Have I taught you nothing about how flavours are created?"

He stuck his tongue out at her as she poured the heated milk into a pair of mugs, but took the makings for the s'mores into the living room and plopped down in front of the fire, grabbing the metal skewers they'd used to roast hot dogs last night and stabbing a few marshmallows. Ann had brought them on the off chance that the cabin had a fireplace and had been glad she did when it turned out there was indeed a fireplace.

"Here," she said, holding his mug out to him and sitting down. "I put some whipped cream on it and a little nutmeg. The whipped cream is just the crap from a can, but hey, we're in the middle of nowhere, have to make do."

Smiling, he leaned in and kissed her softly, holding the skewers in one hand and the mug in the other. "You're such a food snob," he teased before putting on a falsetto. "What do you mean, they didn't deliver any goat cheese? What the fuck, Phil, do we have to drive down there and get it ourselves?" As she flipped him off, he started laughing again, but took a sip of his hot chocolate and smiled. "This is really good, though."

"Thanks." She took one of the skewers when the marshmallows on it suddenly burst into flame and, lifting it up, carefully blew it out. "I think those ones are done."

"Yeah, I'd say so," Phil admitted as he pulled his own perfectly browned marshmallows out of the fire and set his mug down. "Mine look great…" He pulled one off of the skewer and popped it into his mouth, ignoring the dirty look Ann was giving him. "Too bad yours are char broiled."

"Too bad you're not getting that show tonight."

"Aww, come on, I was just teasing!" he laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer, kissing her forehead.

"I know. So was I."

"Mm. Good to know," he said around a mouthful of marshmallow.

Smiling, Ann took his empty skewer and handed him hers, arranging a couple of marshmallows on the skewer before holding it above the fire with one hand and arranging a graham cracker and chocolate with the other. "So you're leaving right after the new year, right?" she asked, scooting a little closer to him. It was so odd to think that, after having spent so much time together over the last four months, at least two or three times a week most weeks, sometimes more, that he was going to be gone.

"Yeah." He stabbed a couple more marshmallows and thrust them back into the fire, his expression suddenly quite pensive. "You sure you're gonna be okay with that?"

"Well, as long as you're not banging fan girls and diva's at every turn. I mean, have you seen the shit they write about you on the internet?"

"No, because you won't let me," he chuckled, kissing her forehead. "A fact for which I am eternally grateful."

She grinned and kissed his cheek, a comfortable silence briefly falling between them as they watched the flames devour the marshmallows on the skewers.

"We can Skype whenever you want, as long as I'm not training, in the ring or asleep."

"And I'll come out and visit you, if we can work that out."

He set the skewer down and pulled her into his lap, kissing her softly. "We'll figure something out. I promise. And in the mean time, we've got the rest of December. My sister's have been bugging me about if you're coming for the holidays, since your family's back in Missouri, so I told her I'd ask you."

"I don't think I'm going home this year, not if I'm coming out to see you next month," she admitted, settling in his lap, her cocoa long gone and the mug forgotten, her hands resting on his sides. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family." Considering she'd already spent Labor Day and Halloween with them, it didn't bother her one bit.

Phil's hand, warmed by the fire, slipped down the front of her pajama bottoms and into her panties, gently teasing at her, drawing a soft moan from her lips. "You remember what we talked about before we came out here?" he asked softly, just as she felt his cock starting to press against her thigh in its own insistent way.

She nodded and kissed the tip of his nose. "About not using condoms anymore," she confirmed. They'd had the discussions. They'd done the testing, a full barrage of it to make sure neither of them had anything they could pass along without that latex barrier. She'd been on birth control for ages, so that was already taken care of.

"Do you want to tonight?"

They'd used a condom last night, just out of habit. It was a good habit to have, but one she was ready to give up. At least with Phil.

"No. I want to feel you in me, with nothing between us. Do you want to?" she replied, her hands easing under his shirt as he carefully slipped a finger into her, crooking it just so to reach her g-spot.

"I don't want to, either," he admitted, kissing under her chin. "I don't even want to go to the bedroom." As he pulled his hand out of her pants, she tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it aside, her hands cupping his face for another slow kiss.

She smiled as the kiss ended and nipped at his bottom lip before whispering, "Neither do I." His hands found the hem of her shirt, helping her out of it as she slipped out of his lap and shimmied out of her pants, kicking them and her panties away. "Lay down, baby."

"But I wanted to be on top," Phil laughed, laying back on the rug as Ann reached out for his pants, pulling them off and tossing them into the pile of discarded clothes. "Get over here." He reached for her, but she stood over him and smirked, her hands on her hips. She slowly turned around and sat down, straddling his lap with her back to him, rubbing down against his hard cock.

"You mean you don't want to see my ass while I ride you?" she teased, working her body against him, looking at him over her shoulder, a sly grin on her face. Lifting her hips a bit, Ann reached down and grasped his cock, carefully guiding it into herself, moaning softly as she settled back down. "You don't like this visual?"

The low groan he let out, combined with his hands on her hips, was the only reply she needed as she started to rock on his lap, sliding up and down on his cock. Her hips swiveled a bit, a moan escaping her throat as she moved on top of him, settling her hands on his knees to give her leverage.

She moved a little faster, panting softly as she moved one hand between her legs, toying with her clit as his hands slid over her ass and lower back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he moaned, thrusting up into her as she looked back at him, licking her lips with a grin. "You feel incredible." He grinned and eased a hand between her legs, brushing hers away as he circled her clit with his forefinger.

"You should try it from this end," she laughed, glancing at him over her shoulder, loving the look on his face. "This feels great."

Ann rode him easily, working herself up and down on his length, listening to the way he moaned, enjoying the feel of his fingers on her clit, heat curling in her lower abdomen as she inched closer to her own orgasm. Suddenly, Phil was gripping her hips tight and repositioning their bodies, pulling out of her just long enough to get her on her back with him on top of her.

He thrust back in, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts as his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss. His thrusts weren't as deep as they had been, but that was just fine with her, because kissing him was more important. Touching him, seeing his eyes, was more important. Besides, if she didn't manage to come, it wasn't like he wouldn't make sure he got her there. He was good about that.

"I love you, Ann," he panted, resting his forehead on hers, his body weight resting on his elbows on either side of her.

Smiling sheepishly, she hooked her legs around his waist and kissed him softly, one hand reaching up to smooth over his hair. "I know. I love you, too, Phil," she admitted, kissing the tip of his nose before she kissed his forehead, gasping when he bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth. "Fuck, I hate when you don't shave, I want you to go down on me…"

He pulled back and laughed, kissing her again. "Maybe later, when you show me that lingerie you brought," he smirked, rubbing his two-day's growth against her throat. "It's still early, I can shave before that."

"You'd better," she moaned as he pressed himself in as deeply as he could, her nails digging into his shoulder. "That shit tickles as it is." She knew why he grew the beard, but she still wanted him to go down on her at some point today and if he wanted to do that while she was in the lingerie she had tucked away for him, he needed to shave. It wasn't her fault she didn't want to deal with beard burn between her legs.

Then again, she could just go sit outside in the snow and let it cool down. Not that she was going to tell Phil that.

Laughing and shaking his head, Phil started thrusting a little harder as his mouth found hers, kissing her deeply. They'd discovered very early on that they were a pair of kissing sluts, which suited them just fine. His hand slid down her thigh, gripping it just above her knee as his hips moved faster.

When his beard brushed her nipples again as he kissed across her chest, Ann gasped and thrust up against him, her legs tightening around his waist and her hands squeezing his shoulders as she suddenly came.

"Shit, you're beautiful when you come," he panted, kissing under her chin as his hips slowed to a more gentle pace, her breathing returning to normal. "Wanna get you there again."

She laughed and kissed him slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "If you say so, Punk," she smirked, moaning as his mouth closed around her nipple again. "I love when you do that…"

It only took a few moments before Phil's thrusts were coming in ragged jerks. He buried his face in her chest as he grunted and Ann kissed the top of his head, exhaling slowly as he came. She started to wriggle out from underneath him, habit telling her that they needed to dispose of the condom, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

"Nuh uh," he mumbled, his cock softening inside of her. "No condom, remember? Just let me enjoy this for a second."

Ann's cheeks blazed red, but she settled back down underneath him and kissed him slowly, cupping his face in her hands. She had never gone without condoms before, having never had a partner she felt comfortable enough doing it with. The feel of him having come inside of her was strange, but not in a bad way. It was the fun kind of dirty, to be honest. She'd still have to clean up, but being close to the man kissing her, touching her, holding her, was more important than that right now.

Oh, she hoped they didn't stain the rug.

"You okay?" she whispered, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip, giving him a shy smile.

He just smiled and kissed her, carefully pulling out and laying down next to her, an arm circling her waist and pulling her close. "I'm fantastic," he grinned. "Who doesn't like orgasms?"

There was a pause as she looked at him before she burst out laughing, kissing him. "You big goob," she laughed, nuzzling at his cheek before she squirmed out of his arms, getting to her feet and darting off to the bathroom. She heard him call out, asking where she was going as she hurried off. "I just want to get cleaned up! I'll be back!" It was starting to itch, which was surprising.

After a few minutes, Ann padded back out to the living room, looking around for Phil, who'd disappeared, along with her clothes. "Oh, come on," she sighed, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch. "Phil, where did you go?"

"I'm in the bedroom!"

"Oh."

She dashed into the bedroom, since he'd stolen her socks and the floor was freezing, and promptly tackled him on the bed, stealing another kiss. It brought a grin to Phil's face and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close before he pulled the quilt up and over their bodies. "This is much nicer than cuddling on the floor," he admitted, kissing her hair.

"Yeah, that's true. I think we need to figure out lunch at some point, though. I'm thinking soup and sandwiches."

"Sounds good to me," he grinned, kissing her forehead and picking up the remote from the nightstand. He tried to turn on the TV and blinked when it didn't come on. "The hell?" Smashing some buttons, he groaned and popped the battery cover off, then made a strange noise Ann couldn't explain. "Baby?"

"Hm?"

"Where are the batteries?"

"We had to take them out for my vibrator, remember?"

He paused.

"Oh, yeah." Glancing at her with a wry grin on his face, he asked, "So… Do we have any more batteries? Because all things considered, I don't think those ones should go back in the remote."

Laughing, Ann grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. "You're the one who wanted to use it on me before you fucked me, it's your own fault. Look in my suitcase, because I'm not getting out of this bed now that you've got me in it." She snuggled down into the quilt and smirked at him. The batteries were in her bag, which was across the room in the same place it had been the night before, when Phil had been too in the moment to leave the bed and grab them. He'd grabbed the remote, since that was handy, and popped the batteries out.

"Maybe I should stick it back in you, turn it on, and tie your hands behind your back," Phil smirked, sliding out of the bed, bare ass flexing as he walked over to the suitcases. He pulled the batteries out of her bag and made his way back to the bed, popping them into the remote and turning on ESPN.

"ESPN? Seriously?"  
-

"Come _on_! Aren't you ready yet?" Phil hollered. "The menu's driving me nuts!"

"Keep your fuckin' pants on, Brooks!" Ann called back, looking at herself in the mirror as she adjusted her boobs in the cups of the bustier she'd slipped into. Her ass looked fabulous in the panties, even she had to admit that.

"Too late, the pants are already gone!"

She stepped out of the bathroom and went into the living room, where Phil was sprawled on the couch in an old blue t-shirt and his boxer briefs, giving him a grin. His eyes widened when he saw her, one hand automatically moving down to his crotch. "Looks like you jumped the gun there, didn't you?" she grinned, moving over to him and bending forward, stroking one finger down the length of his cock.

"There's something else in this room I'd like to jump," he breathed, pulling her down for a kiss.

Her hand palmed over his hardening cock and she whispered, "So you like it, huh?" The bustier was pink with black lace, with matching panties. She'd fallen in love with it and, honestly, really hoped he wouldn't destroy it.

"I think it'd look better on the floor."

He stood up, kissing her deeply, his hands sliding down to her ass, squeezing it firmly. Suddenly, he was tossing her onto the couch and she squeaked when she hit it, laughing when he kissed her again, kneeling between her legs. "You're so fucking sexy," he growled, fingers hooking in her panties and tugging them down.

God, she was glad he'd shaved before lunch, because the next thing she knew, he was diving between her legs and shifting them over his shoulders.

She moaned and rested her hands on the back of his head, repositioning herself so that her hips were tilted more toward him. "That better?" she asked, her voice laced with a breathless moan. He didn't say anything. He just nodded, his dark hair bobbing between her legs. Good lord.

His tongue was working on her pussy, diving deep inside of her as he hooked his arms around her thighs, her breath hitching in her throat as she realized that he was doing exactly what he'd done in her dream. He just wasn't holding her still. Even though they'd just had sex a few hours before, she was almost always aroused when she was around him. It was just a byproduct of dating one of the sexiest men in the world. Thank god she'd taken a shower after they'd had sex.

She squirmed a bit, trying to arch her hips up, spread her legs wider to get his tongue on her clit, but every time he touched it, he went right back down to where he was, continuing working on her lips. Even though she was a grown woman and grown women didn't whine (normally), she whined and tugged on his short hair. "Oh, come on, Phil, work on my clit, please," she begged, digging her heels into his back.

The sensations stopped as he pulled back just enough to smirk up at her, saying, "Your clit's greedy, sweetheart. It'll get a turn when I feel like it."

Cruel bastard.

"Your dick is greedy, maybe it'll get a turn when I feel like it," she retorted, gasping as he eased a finger in along with his tongue, pumping her as he spoke.

"Don't be mean… Your lips are gorgeous, I just want to pay them some attention, too."

She moaned as his tongue gently slid over her entrance, pulling harder on his hair. "Which pair of lips are you referring to?" she managed, her breath coming in short little pants.

"The ones currently pressed against mine," he smirked, kissing her pussy as he slipped his finger back out and continued licking and sucking at everything _but_ her clit.

"Oh, come on, that's not fair!" she whined, cupping the back of his head, nearly writhing on the couch. "Phil, I'm gonna come, please just do something to my clit!"

He stopped. And he pulled away.

And before Ann could scream in frustration, he was leaning up to kiss her, the hot tip of his cock pressing against her as he finished pushing his boxers down to his knees. He pressed himself home with one quick thrust as she cried out. He put his hand between her legs, thumb working her clit as he thrust in twice more, kissing her hungrily as she reached her orgasm, her whimpers muffled by the way he devoured her mouth.

"Mine," he growled, pinning her hips down as he thrust into her, his movements quick and hard. She realized that it wouldn't last very long, but that was okay, because she loved watching him when he was on top of her. She reached up to touch his chest through his t-shirt, but he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head as he bent to kiss her again, his grip loose so that she could easily pull away if she wanted to.

His own climax hit him moments later and he buried himself deep inside of her, biting hard on her shoulder as he pumped her full. "Oh, fuck," she gasped, twisting her hands out of his grasp to wrap her arms around him. "That was really hot."

He laughed and kissed her, this kiss all teeth and tongues and breathtaking urgency. "You complaining?" he asked when they finally broke apart, panting softly.

Smiling, she shook her head and stole one more kiss. "Not at all." With that, she slipped out from underneath him and darted off to the shower, leaving her panties where he'd dropped them. "Shower, then movie!" Honestly, if they kept fucking, there was going to be chafing, so they needed to cool it. At least a little bit.

She didn't want to be sitting out in the damn snow, after all.

Considering that this was a cabin, it had an absolutely fantastic bathroom. There was a two-person jacuzzi in the corner and the shower had one of those weird ceiling mounts, not a traditional shower head. She loved showering in it and would probably have to look into it when it came time to remodel her bathroom.

As she turned on the water in the shower, Ann hummed along to the song that had been stuck in her head since the drive up to the cabin and then smiled when she felt Phil's arms sliding around her waist from behind. "Hi there," she grinned, leaning back for a kiss.

"Hey," he chuckled, fumbling around until he found the zipper on her bustier, lowering it and helping her out of the pink swath of material, dropping it on the floor. "I think that was the easiest piece of lingerie ever to get off."

"Yeah, that's honestly one of the reasons I bought it. When I wore that corset when we went to the Renaissance Faire, you had a hard time getting it off me, remember?"

"I know, I know, I still owe you new laces. I'll order them when we get home."

"Good boy," she teased, taking his hand and stepping into the shower with him, since he'd apparently taken his shirt off before joining her. "Hands off unless you're washing my back, I don't feel like knocking you over today."

He snorted and rolled his eyes, but picked up her body wash, handing it and her poof to her. "There, go smell like a girl," he deadpanned, picking up his own unscented soap.

"Um, baby, I am a girl."

"I know… Now you can smell like one," he smirked, stealing a kiss before he soaped up, her gaze caught by the way his muscles flexed under the water. "So, do you want to actually watch that movie? We didn't turn it off and the menu's still playing."

As she lathered up her arms, she glanced at him and asked, "What did you even put on?"

His smile twisted into that goofy, little boy grin he sometimes gave her. "The Amytiville Horror," he admitted.

Ann laughed and shook her head, leaning down to wash her legs. "That's fine. The best part of that movie is Ryan Reynolds topless," she said, wondering what his reaction to that would be.

When she stood back up, his slippery arm went around her waist, pulling her close to him as he murmured in her ear, "Not that one, the old one."

Her eyebrow quirked and she sighed deeply. "Of course it is." she replied, easing out of his grasp so that she could wash her hair. "I'm making that roast beef for dinner. Want to help me with the potatoes?"

"Am I allowed to touch the stove again?"

"No. You're peeling, cutting, and putting them in the pot."

"Yeah, that's fine with me."

"And you are going to have some goat cheese today." He groaned in response and quickly scrubbed over her back with her poof and she glanced at him over her shoulder, smirking. "You will, or no more sex until tomorrow."

"Oh, not that's just a low blow."

Phil's silverware clattered as he put them down on his plate, leaning back in his chair, one hand resting on his stomach. "God, I'm starting to think dating you is hazardous to my waistline," he said. "I mean, seriously, I've had to add extra time to my workout routine because of you."

"I'm sure the constant boning helps," Ann said dryly as she sipped at her wine.

"Yeah, well," he chuckled, running a hand over his hair. "So I got through dinner without eating your crazy goat cheese. Do I still get sex tomorrow?"

She stood up and collected the plates, giving him an innocent smile. "You already ate it, actually," she retorted, moving over to the sink and putting the dishes in the soapy water. "I put it in the mashed potatoes, of which, you had two helpings. I seem to remember you saying… Oh, what was it?" Walking back over to him, she wrapped her arms around him from behind and leaned down, kissing his ear. "That they were the best mashed potatoes you'd ever had?"

There was a heavy sigh before he took her hand and pulled her around to sit in his lap. "Yes, they were the best mashed potatoes I've ever had, but if you tell my mother that, I might have to kill you," he said, his face poker straight as she started to laugh.

"So. Ice cream now?" she asked, kissing his nose. "We can finish watching the Amytiville Horror, since we got distracted."

The snow had started again about half an hour or so into the movie and Phil, ever the overgrown five year old, had badgered her into getting dressed and coming out to walk in the snow with him. They hadn't had sex outside (thank god, considering that it was only about 12 degrees out), but there had been a lot of kissing and maybe a little more throwing of snow at one another. They'd stayed outside until the sun went down, just to watch it over the lake, with her leaning back into his chest, his arms around her waist, holding her close, his chin resting on her shoulder. It had been a wonderful moment.

He smiled and kissed her again, tweaking her chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Ice cream and the movie sounds good. But you've gotta get off me," he said, his voice soft as his hands slid underneath her fleecy shirt, lightly rubbing her sides.

After another kiss, Ann slid out of his lap and grabbed a couple of bowls and spoons for the ice cream while he dug it out of the freezer. "We can do the dishes later, after the movie," she yawned, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth as he scooped some ice cream into the bowls.

"That works. Come on," he grinned, taking his bowl in one hand and her hand in the other, pulling her out of the kitchen so quickly that she barely had time to grab her own bowl.

By the time the credits rolled on the movie, Ann was fast asleep with her head on Phil's chest, their ice cream bowls empty on the coffee table. He was snoring lightly, his head tilted back against the couch, his arm hooked around her shoulders, feet propped up near the ice cream bowls.

Their nap was interrupted by the sudden blaring of 22 from the bedroom, and Phil came awake with a start, groaning as he scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, I thought you changed your ringtone," he muttered, nudging at her side to get her to go answer her phone.

"S'not mine," she yawned, moving away from him. "It's yours. Changed it this morning while you were getting firewood. It's your mom."

"Oh, shit," he hissed, clambering up from the couch and running into the bedroom to answer his phone before it went to voice mail while she snuggled up under the blanket and smirked.

Never, _ever_ let a smartass near your cell phone.


	5. Chapter 5

**i have officially left school, here is a new chapter :)))))) i'm feeling the same as Phil to be honest, we're both feeling pretty shit, so here you go! enjoy, review, favourite anything eheh!**

Ann's phone rang, and seeing Phil's name on the display, she quickly grabbed it.

"Hey."

"Hey. I can't come over."

"Why? What's up?"

"I'm sick. I'm a miserable bastard and I can't breathe."

"Oh, you poor thing, I hate being sick."

"It suuuuuuuucks."

"How about this? Go get in a hot shower and just breathe in the steam for a while. Like, sit down in the tub if you get woozy, but just stay in there until you start to run out of hot water. I'll come over and take care of you."

"NO! I mean … you don't have to do that."

"It's okay, I don't mind. Besides, I think I'd kind of like to see you weak and helpless, I'm not used to it."

"Jee thanks, but what if I get you sick? I'll feel bad."

"Then you can take care of me for a while."

"I'm picturing the two of us in bed, looking like shit, and complaining about whose turn it is to go get more OJ."

"I look good when I'm sick."

"You probably do, you bitch. You're always pretty."

"Nice save calling me pretty immediately after that bitch comment."

"I'm sick, not stupid."

She laughed, and when he tried to join, a cough ripped through him.

"Oh, honey. That sounds awful. Go get in the shower and I'll see you in a little while."

Ann arrived at his door, a bulging canvas tote over her shoulder. Phil answered, water still dripping from the ends of his hair, a fluffy blue towel wrapped around his hips. His eyebrows were creased in a pitiful expression. She put a hand on his ribs as she leaned in and kissed his collarbone.

"Poor sick baby."

"Thank you for coming. You really didn't have to, but I'm glad you did," ducking his head and wrapping an arm around her waist as he whispered into her hair, not pushing his voice any more than necessary.

"Did the shower at least make you feel a little better?"

"More when I was in there than now. I can already feel everything clogging back up again."

She pouted up at his hangdog expression, "Well—and I hope to never have to say this again—let's get you into some clothes. Something warm and comfy."

Ann guided Phil back to his bedroom, helping him find a pair of fleece sweatpants and a snug long-sleeved t-shirt. She tucked him into bed before starting to root around in the bottom of her tote. She pulled out a plastic bag filled with little boxes, extracting cough syrup and decongestant. She tore open the packaging and measured out the dose. Ann held out the little plastic cup in one hand, two pills in the other.

"Take 'em both and then go ahead and pass out. I put your phone right here so you can text me if you need something. I'll bring you some juice, and I'll put it here on the nightstand where you can reach it." She caressed Phil's cheek, and he nuzzled into her hand before, settling into the pillow and closing his eyes.

After delivering the juice, which Phil dutifully drained half of before settling back to sleep, Ann went back out into the kitchen, unloading most of the contents of her bag before searching through Phil's cabinets for the large stock pot he claimed he had for his massive background in cooking nothing but pasta. She pulled out the big steel pot and lifted it onto the stove. She loved working in Phil's kitchen. It didn't have all the little tools and supplies that filled hers, but the fixtures were incredible: the deep farm sink, a Viking range, marble countertops and a butcher block island. It meant nothing to him other than it looked sharp, and the fact that she'd been so enamoured with it when she first saw it that she let him convince her to have sex on top of the marble. It hadn't taken that much convincing.

She turned the knob on the stove, blue flame leaping to life beneath the pot—another sign that this kitchen was designed to be used by someone who could actually cook, no flashy flattop range. She opened the spout on the chicken stock and poured it into the pot, setting it to simmer slowly before she moved back to the vegetables she had spread out on the butcher block. She unpacked her knives and started chopping vegetables and breaking down the pre-made roast chicken she'd bought, not wanting to take the extra time to cook the chicken and make the stock from scratch when she had a sick man waiting on her. Ann added the vegetables and the noodles to the stock, temporarily halting the rolling boil in the pot, steam rising up around her. She put the chicken in last, letting it absorb the flavours of the rest of the soup as she turned the flame down low to just keep it warm.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she wiped her hands on her apron before pulling it out. A text from Phil that read, "I miss you, and I've finished the juice." Ann smiled as she grabbed a small mixing bowl, filling it half full with ice before settling the half-gallon bottle of orange juice inside. She filled another bowl with the steaming soup and headed back to Phil's room with both.

Phil's eyes tracked her as she moved through the room, but he didn't speak. She set the bowl of ice on the nightstand, pulling out the bottle and refilling his glass. Ann climbed on to the bed beside him with the bowl of soup.

Phil moved slowly into a sitting position, Ann helping to adjust the pillows behind him. He took the bowl from her and moved the spoon through it a few times, lifting spoonfuls and letting them pour back into the bowl.

"What is this?"

"What do you mean? It's chicken noodle soup."

He stared down at it, his lips pursed in concentration.

"What?"

"Chicken and stars. I like chicken and stars. You know, little star-shaped noodles, bits of chicken and, like, maybe one piece of carrot swimming around in there for colour. Chicken and stars."

Ann was incensed. "I made that for you. Practically from scratch. You haven't even tasted it, and you want condensed soup from a can?"

He ducked his head, looking up with pitiful large eyes through his impossibly long lashes. Phil knew she was disappointed, but… well, he really wanted chicken and stars. It's what he always had when he was sick as a kid. "Yes, please. I'm sure your soup is great. Can we put it in the fridge for another time?"

Ann relaxed the set of her jaw. "Okay, fine. Where do you keep the chicken and stars?"

Phil scrunched up his face, squinting his eyes as he delivered the news, "At the grocery store?"

She heaved a huge sigh, her chest rising and falling as she looked up at the ceiling. She paused a moment for she replied, "Fine. You're sick; I'll humour you. I'll pick up some more juice, too. Is there anything else you need since I'm going?"

"Ice cream?"

"You can't have ice cream when you're sick. The dairy will just make you worse, all phlegmy and gross. I'm sorry, baby."

"Then just the juice and soup, I guess." Phil set his bowl on the nightstand and pulled the covers back up to his neck, closing his eyes as he turned away.

When Ann returned, she went directly to Phil's room, a smile on her face. She found him awake, propped up flipping through the channels with the remote. She set the bag down on the bed, reaching inside and opening one of the boxes. She held one of the paper packets out to him.

"Here. Popsicle. Next best thing."

Phil smiled as he took the popsicle from her. She swapped out the nearly empty bottle of juice for one of the new bottles in her bag, kissed the top of his head and headed back to the kitchen. Condensed soup was just a couple minutes in the microwave, so she was back in the room just as he finished the popsicle.

She handed him the bowl, "Here's your damned chicken and stars, you brat."

"Thank you. I really do appreciate it." He took a big spoonful, humming, before he held the spoon out her. "See? Stars. Isn't that cool?" He swallowed the second spoonful before putting on a gruff voice, "I am Galactus devourer of worlds."

The gruff voice set off a round of coughing, and Ann grabbed the bowl from him with one hand as she made circles on his back with the other. When he recovered he wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her as he pressed his face to her stomach. "Thanks for the assist, Surfer."

"Surfer?"

"Yeah, the Silver Surfer. You prepared the worlds." He looked up at her and she couldn't help but smile at the hopeful look on his face.

"So lame. Let me know when Johnny Storm shows up; I like him better."

Ann handed back the bowl and passed him another round of medicine before she headed to the living room to grab the DVDs he'd requested. And so she nursed him through the rest of the day, and while there were occasional sweet moments, and sporadic thank you's when he was alert enough to remember it, soon there was just the flow of text messages.

_Need juice._

_More soup._

_Is there tea?_

_It's popsicle time._

_Do I own Fight Club?_

And while her favorite was definitely, "Sponge bath?" she had no idea what he expected her to do when he sent "I can't see the TV when I'm lying on my side." That television was bolted to the wall, how was she supposed to move it, even if she'd be able to lift it once it was down?

After the sun went down and Phil finished another bowl of chicken and stars, Ann joined him on the bed with her own mug of steaming hot tea, filled with honey and lemon.

Phil set his empty bowl down on the nightstand, turning back to Ann to ask, "So, you've never had medicine before huh? That's incredible you know, so many people rely on drugs when they're sick, but not you." He rubbed his fingers across the tops of his cheekbones.

"I live by a code, it's what I do, hence why I'm a whiny bitch when I'm sick, I guess drugs are supposed to mellow you but not this hard ass no way."

Ann looked at the clock. "Whiny bitch is spot on. Anyway, you're close enough, do you think you're ready to go to sleep for the night."

"Yeah can you just shut the blinds and open the door slightly, no that's too much, close a bit more, just a little bit, there we go."

"Phil!"

"What?!"

"Take off your shirt."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, never too sick to miss an opportunity for a suggestive glance. She held up the jar of VapoRub.

"You take off YOUR shirt."

"And why would I need to do that?"

"So I can see your boobs while you're putting that crap on me, duh."

She shook her head dismissively, but did pull her t-shirt up and over her head. Phil grabbed the collar of his shirt, dragging it up and off as well. He laid himself slowly back down and Ann moved to sit cross-legged beside him, her fingers spreading the menthol balm over his skin, Phil inhaling with relief as the strong smell started to clear his sinuses. Then he sighed as he shifted to just enjoying the feel of her hands on him.

"Will you lie down with me for a while? Just let me hold onto you while you pet my hair until I fall asleep? I know I've been a fucking whiny bitch today, but I would really appreciate it."

She gave him a small lopsided grin, "Sure."

Phil lifted up the covers and Ann snuggled in beside him. She tucked an arm under his head, hugging his shoulders as her other hand started to run through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way that made him hum in pleasure. He rolled on his side, wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing his face right to her breasts.

"Heyyyyy. This is a scam," Ann replied.

"Nope, just a happy coincidence. Now get back to what you were doing with your fingers there."

As she started carding her fingers through his hair again, she felt his hot wet mouth moving over her chest, lazy damp kisses that required a minimum amount of effort but still sent little bolts of electricity through her body.

"I thought you didn't feel good."

"I don't. I haven't had a cold this bad in years."

"If you feel so bad, why can I feel Sergeant Major saluting against my leg there?"

"I feel bad; you feel amazing. Just ignore him. He's on a secret mission, he'll be done in a minute."

Phil started moving his hips against her leg as he continued kissing her chest. He pulled down one of the cups of her bra, his mouth encircling her nipple as his tongue started to flex against her. She moaned softly, her hand stopping in his hair, her fingers curling as she tugged on it. His hand moved down to her thighs, pulling her lower leg between his, sliding his erection against her faster and harder through his soft fleece pants. That same hand now moved between her legs, sliding against her through her pants, yet still rubbing against her clit on every single pass. His hips jerked against her one last time, and he froze for a moment before his mouth and hand resumed their mission to push her over the edge. She moaned one last time as her nails dug into his bicep, and then her body relaxed against him.

Ann chuckled softly.

"What?" Phil asked without lifting his head.

"I didn't do a very good job of petting your hair until you fell asleep."

"You did a great job; I'll be out like a light in a minute. You're the best sexy nurse ever."

"Not actually what I was going for."

"See? You're such a sexy nurse you don't even have to try. Now shush, I need my rest." He pulled her closer, resting his cheek against her chest. She ran her fingertips along his skin as she listened to his breathing slowing. She was certain if she spent the whole night breathing in his air she'd wind up with his same miserable cold, but somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care.


	6. Chapter 6

**so i got the idea of this chapter from an episode of Sex and the City - it gets pretty graphic i apologize, just skip it if it gets boring or yano idk if you just don't like it, i apologize in advance - review, w/e :) **

Ann stood in the tiny laundry room tucked away in the corner of her apartment, folding a pile of towels still warm from the dryer. Her mind was not on the task at hand, but who really paid attention to their laundry while folding it? As she placed a towel on the top of the growing pile and reached for a new one, she heard footsteps behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she spotted Phil leaning against the doorframe, one hand above his head as he watched her.

"You're early," she remarked, turning back to her towels. "Did you pick up something for dinner?"

"Nah. Figured I'd just have you," he teased, walking over and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, kissing he curve of her neck.

"Baby, I'm doing laundry… I look like crap, I've been doing housework all day, I'm not really in the mood for fooling around right now."

She felt his lips twist into that smirk she knew all too well; it was the one he got when he felt like he'd been challenged. He kissed her shoulder again and then purred in her ear, "I bet you an ice cream cone from Coldstone that I can get you to let me do you right here on top of your ever so neatly folded pile of towels. What do you say?"

Sighing softly, she glanced at him. This wasn't a new game. The last time, Ann had been the one making the bet, because she was trying to seduce him away from a script WWE had sent him. It had worked, because all she'd had to do was slip a hand into her panties and moan loud enough for him to hear.

He was a sucker for a girl playing with herself. She had a little more self control, thankfully.

"You're on, big man."

He grinned and started mouthing at her neck, dropping little bites and kisses before he whispered in her ear, "I know you think you look like crap, but I love when you look so normal. No one's put together all the time."

"Says the man who has foundation smeared on his face and is done by a professional make-up artist before the show," she laughed, a soft moan tainting her voice as he slipped a hand under her t-shirt and cupped her breast.

"I'm a dude, I'm not supposed to look perfect, and I told you that in confidence."

His fingers pinched her nipple as Ann started working on another towel, her pussy beginning that familiar throb.

This was going to be difficult.

"I think you look perfect," she admitted, leaning back to kiss him, her his driving back against his when he eased his other hand into her yoga pants, pressing between her legs. "But can you do me a favour?"

"Hm?" he murmured, his nose buried in her hair.

She smirked.

"Go throw the blue balls in the dryer?"

"You mean these blue balls?" he asked, taking her hand with the one that had been toying with her tit and pressing it between them, down near his balls.

"No, darling, the blue dryer balls. I don't want those getting fried."

He groaned into her ear, but let go of her hand, giving her the impetus to pick up another towel. "You use a lot of towels," he commented, nipping lightly at her neck as he ground against her, his hand still gently working between her legs. "Any particular reason for that?"

Shrugging, Ann put that folded towel on top of the pile. "I dunno, I just don't like reusing the same towel after I've dried off," she admitted, her breathing quickening when his fingers slipped inside of her. "I, uh… I thought I asked you to put the balls in the dryer?"

"You did," Phil smirked against her throat, biting softly. "But I'm choosing to see your distraction and raise you another."

A third finger slipped inside of her and his thumb brushed over her clit, drawing another moan from her as her hands rested flat on the table, her eyes falling shut. "I think you might be winning this round," she breathed, rocking her ass back against him, her pussy soaking wet around his fingers.

He smirked against her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Well, gee, I couldn't tell." With that, he put his free hand between her shoulders and gently pushed her down into the towels. She whimpered softly when his other hand slid back out of her pants, fingers catching in the waistband. "I want to make an adjustment to the bet."

"Huh?" She looked at him over her shoulder, shifting her feet apart as her gaze lowered and she watched him unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans, lowering them to his knees. "What adjustment?"

"How much time is there until the washer finishes?" he asked, lining his cock up with her and gliding in with one smooth stroke, smirking when she gasped, her back arching as she reached back for one of his hands.

"Just a few minutes, it's a delicate cycle, why?" she responded, her voice breathy as she clasped his hand, linking their fingers together as he started to thrust, his hips snapping against hers.

There was a sudden, light smack to her ass before he leaned down and growled in her ear, "If I can make you come before the washer finishes, I get to fuck your ass tonight. If I don't, I'll go down on you for twenty minutes. Deal?"

Ann shivered as she felt his hand gently rubbing at her ass, one finger carefully drawing between her cheeks. He'd asked her about anal before, but she'd never let him do it. She'd always said that maybe they could do it next time. Maybe next Tuesday. Maybe. It had always been either no or maybe.

She couldn't deny, though, that the sensation of him touching her _there_ while he was fucking her was intoxicating.

"You promise to stop if it hurts?"

"I swear," he promised, leaning down to kiss her. "And I promise to use a whole gallon of lube if I have to. It'll be okay. And, if it helps you decide, I'm probably going to eat you out even if you lose. How about it?"

His hips started working faster as his free hand moved down between her hips and the madly creaking table, fingers rubbing her clit. There was no way she'd be able to last longer than the washer was going to take.

"Okay," she panted, glancing at him again, a shy smile on her face. "Deal."

"But god, baby, if you let me fuck you in the ass tonight, I'll do whatever the hell you want after," he gasped, lightly scratching at the curve of her butt. "You have such a fantastic ass, sweetheart…"

Maybe it was just because Phil was so aroused by the thought of it, but when he slapped her ass again, Ann suddenly felt her body tighten.

Oh god. She could feel it getting closer.

When Phil bit down on her shoulder again, his cock brushing over her g-spot, her hips bucked and she cried out his name as she came, burying her face in the towels to muffle the obscene noises she was making.

Just before the washer stopped spinning. Fucking hell.

Groaning, Ann looked at him over her shoulder, panting softly as she brought her hand up, resting on her elbow. "So I guess that means we're going to try anal tonight, huh?" she asked as he kept thrusting, fucking her a little harder and faster now, his thumb teasing at her anus.

"It does," he grinned, his thumb rubbing slow circles around her hole as he fucked her a little harder. "But only if you let me, I'm not gonna force you."

She grumbled and blindly swatted at his hip. "I hate losing bets," she muttered, shivering a bit when he finally came inside of her, his arms circling around her as his hips quivered against hers.

"I know. So do I," Phil chuckled, kissing behind her ear as he gently stroked her belly with his fingers. "It'll be fine. I promise I'll be gentle. And if you don't like it, we never have to do it again."

Leaning back to steal a kiss, Ann smiled as she felt him start to soften inside of her before finally pulling out. "Okay," she said, carefully straightening up before fixing her clothes as she turned around to kiss him slowly, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. "So, let me get this straight. Not only do you get to bone me in the ass tonight, I'm buying you ice cream?"

The grin on his face was absolutely priceless. He leaned in for another kiss as he adjusted his own clothes before he whispered, "Indeed you are. Maybe you should get cleaned up before we get going? I'll help you refold all the towels later."

"Brat," she laughed, sticking her tongue out at him before moving to get her delicates out of the washer and hang them up on the drying rack. "I'll get cleaned up and then we can go."

"Okay, ice cream in the middle of December may possibly be the strangest idea ever," Ann admitted as she and Phil walked down a quiet street, her mittened hand held tight in his gloved one. Her ice cream cone was in her free hand and, because of how cold it was, wasn't melting down into her mitten.

He chuckled and took a swipe of his own ice cream with his tongue before leaning in to kiss her cheek. "I kind of like this, though," he smiled, squeezing her hand as she took a bite of her ice cream, glancing at him. "It's quiet, it's beautiful, and there are tons of sparkly things around because of all the holiday displays."

"You so totally have ADD or something," she sighed, nibbling at her waffle cone. He was right, though. It was beautiful, despite the cold and the snow. She hadn't expected tonight to go like this. The plan had been for him to come over so they could have some takeout and watch a movie or something under a blanket on the couch. They were just enjoying what time they had together before the holidays hit full swing and things got hectic.

Not to mention when Phil was due back on the road again in January.

Phil glanced at her and chuckled, squeezing her hand again as he said, "So, takeout for dinner? I figure I can give you your prize once the food's ordered and we can work on mine after dinner. What do you think?"

A quizzical look crossed over Ann's face as she glanced at him, licking at her ice cream. "What prize?" she asked, since she hadn't won the bet due to having come before the washer finished.

Laughing, Phil finished off his ice cream and tossed the napkin into a trash can as they passed it. "I do believe I told you that I'd most likely go down on you for twenty minutes. Or do you not remember that?" he grinned, leaning in and kissing her temple.

Her cheeks, already pink from the cold air, flushed a little redder as she took another bite of her ice cream in an attempt to keep from answering him. She'd heard him, had even remembered what he'd said. She just hadn't thought he'd keep his word.

"I'll even shave when we get back to your place," he grinned, leaning down and rubbing his beard against her cheek, tickling her and making her squeal.

Unfortunately, as she squealed and wriggled away from him, her ice cream 'accidentally' found itself smushed right into his face.

"You little brat," Phil laughed, reaching into her coat pocket for a napkin before mopping up the rapidly melting ice cream.

"Hey, you tickled me. I had to defend myself against the Chicago Tickler."

"The Chicago Tickler? Really?"

"I'm not at my best tonight, shut up."

"Make me."

Ann quirked an eyebrow and looked at him, tossing her ice cream into a nearby trash can. It had essentially crumpled upon impact with his face, but she was mostly done with it anyway. No point in getting brain freeze when it was freezing outside. She stepped back over to him and, once he was done cleaning up his face, reached up, framing his face in her hands, and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. His arms slipped around her waist, holding her close, and she made a soft noise when his hand eased down for a quick butt squeeze.

"You just can't keep your hands to yourself, can you?" she asked, her lips just centimeters away from his.

He smiled and stole another quick kiss before he admitted, "Well, I can, it's just not that much fun. Besides, you've got an amazing ass. I love touching it."

"And tonight, you get to put Sergeant Major inside of it," she whispered, nosing at his cheek before taking his hand in hers. "Home?"

He groaned softly, pressing his hips against hers. She could feel him, hard against her thigh. Clearly, he was looking forward to it.

"Home."

Dinner had been ordered and was probably due any minute now. Ann was panting heavily, sprawled on her back on the sofa bed in her living room, her hands grasping at the back of Phil's head as he devoured her, her thighs trembling as she came for the third time in twenty minutes.

Thank god he'd shaved when they'd returned from getting ice cream.

"I ca— I can't, you have to stop," she panted, squirming and trying to pull herself away from him, but Phil hooked his arms around her legs and held her tightly in place. "Oh God, Phil, if I come one more time, I'm not gonna be able to stand up!"

"Why do you think we're on the pullout?" came his muffled reply before he sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

Whimpering, she pulled on his hair, her hips jerking against him. "Oh, you're so getting it for this, you magnificent bastard," she breathed, her eyes falling shut as she moaned in abject pleasure. He gave the best oral she'd ever had. Ever. It still astonished her that he was so good at lovemaking, since most guys as good looking as he was didn't bother with their skills.

He darted his tongue inside of her and she came again, her body still overly sensitized from the multiple orgasms he'd just given her, her voice sharp as she cried out his name.

A moment later, the doorbell rang.

"Fucking shit," Phil muttered, reluctantly moving up to kiss her slowly, smirking at the dazed look on her face. "Be right back. Don't go anywhere."

"I don't think I could even if I wanted to," Ann laughed breathlessly, pulling a blanket over herself as Phil pulled his pajama bottoms back on and went to the door to pay for the food. She wondered, briefly, if the delivery person had heard her when she'd come.

That was an interesting mix of hot and embarrassing.

After a minute, Phil padded back into the living room, his cheeks pinked up just a bit. "The delivery guy heard you. He commented on how it sounded like you were having a good time," he said, setting the bag down on the pullout next to her. "I'm gonna grab a beer. Do you want one, or do you want some water or something?"

"All I've got in the fridge is whatever's left from the last time you brought that shitty coconut water over, you know I don't really drink that stuff," Ann shrugged, sitting up and letting the blanket fall down to her lap as she opened the bag and poked through it while Phil headed into the kitchen to get drinks. She found that he'd ordered her favourite for her, as well as sweet and sour chicken for himself.

She pulled the boxes out and arranged them on the bed so that everything was easily reachable, considering that they tended to steal food from each other. After she pulled out the chopsticks, she dropped them with a gasp, her back arching away from the sudden cold that was pressed against her spine.

"Oh, you fucking bastard!" she pouted, turning around and swatting at his arm. "That was so not fair!"

"Yeah, well," he grinned, guiding the cold bottle over her shoulder and down to her breasts, dragging the base along them, across her nipples as he grabbed her hands and held them tight so she wouldn't smack him again. "Couldn't help myself."

She glowered at him and yanked her hands away, then smacked him with one of her throw pillows.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, climbing over the back of the couch and sitting next to her, handing her a bottle of water. "It's open."

"I'll tell you what's open."

"Baby, shut up and eat your food," she laughed, fixing her chopsticks before she opened her beef and broccoli and rolled her eyes when Phil promptly stole a piece of broccoli. "Jerk."

He just smirked and popped a bit of chicken into his mouth. "And yes, I ordered crab rangoon. I figured we could split it," he said around his food, drawing a look of disgust from Ann, which prompted him to swallow. "Sorry."

"You're such a boob," she sighed, settling against him and stealing a bit of his chicken. "Maybe if you behave and the butt stuff works out, we can take a bubble bath together."

She felt his lips press against her temple and she smiled as he murmured, "That sounds nice. Even if things don't work out, we could. And then come back out here and watch a movie or something under the blankets." As she chewed on a piece of broccoli, he suddenly gasped and then grinned, "We could make a blanket fort! That would be so fun! We could make popcorn and I'll dig out the candy stash and we can watch bad movies on Netflix!"

Her gaze turned toward him as she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure you're not secretly twelve?" she asked, even though that did sound pretty fun. She hadn't made a blanket fort since she was a kid.

"Oh, come on, that would be awesome! You have to admit it, everyone loves blanket forts," Phil protested as he poked at his food, a clump of rice halfway to his mouth when Ann leaned in to kiss him. "Wow, hi. I'm glad I didn't just drop my steaming hot rice on your tits."

Snickering, Ann shook her head and kissed him again. "We can make a blanket fort and you can raid the candy stash. I'll dig out my Secret Ice Cream."

There was a pause before he asked, "You have Secret Ice Cream? Seriously?"

"Phil, every time you come over, if I have ice cream in the freezer, it's gone by the time I realize you're eating it. So, yes, I have Secret Ice Cream."

Inside of her freezer, there was a big box of cheap fish sticks. Except inside of that box was not cheap fish sticks, because she wouldn't eat that shit. Fish sticks, yes; the cheap ones, no. That box was where she kept her ice cream so that Phil didn't eat it.

"You realize that now I'm going to ransack your freezer and find it, right?"

"You realize that if my ice cream is gone, you're not getting laid for a month, right?" He gave her a contemplative look and she simply smirked. "I can go without. You're the hornball who needs to put Sergeant Major inside me at least three times a week in order to be happy."

"Point. I'll try not to ransack your freezer."

"Good boy. You still get butt sex tonight."

He snorted and took a long drink of his beer. "Gee, thanks," he grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. "You know you don't have to, right?"

Ann set her empty box aside and picked up a crab rangoon, nibbling at the edge of it. "I know. But you really want to do it and I enjoy trying new things with you, so… Just be patient with me. Okay?" she replied, sipping at her beer. "I've never had anything larger than a finger in there before, as you know."

A comfortable silence fell over them as Phil continued eating and she worked on another crab rangoon. When he put the box on the table and cleared up the rest of the food stuff, Ann put their bottles on the table and laid back down. As she held the blanket up, he snuggled up next to her and slipped an arm around her waist, kissing her forehead.

"Mine," he murmured, kissing her nose. "All mine." His lips found hers and he smiled, his hands sliding down the curve of her ass.

"Phil?" He made a soft noise as he mouthed at her neck, a hand easing between her legs, fingers gently rubbing against her still-wet folds. "Can we do it out here? Not in my bed?"

His teeth pulled gently at her earlobe and she let out a soft whimper as he eased a finger inside of her. "Yeah, that's fine," he whispered, kissing her ear. "Any particular reason?"

Her cheeks flushed as her hands slid up his sides, pressing firmly enough that she wouldn't tickle him. "I'm comfy here. Plus, I don't think I can walk just yet, since you made me come four times in twenty minutes," she explained, stealing a slow kiss. "Sexy bastard."

He laughed and shook his head before kissing her again. "That's fine. I just need to go grab the lube and a condom, then," he replied, nipping at her bottom lip. Blinking, Ann looked at him, slightly confused. "I know you're a bit of a germaphobe. Trust me, you'll want me to wear a condom for anal."

Ann thought for a second before she made a face and exclaimed, "Oh, ew. Yeah, you'd better wear one or you're never getting a blowjob again, I don't care how much you shower if you don't wear one, because that's just—" Her rant was cut off by Phil's mouth landing on hers and another finger easing inside of her, drawing a soft moan from her mouth.

"I'm going to go get the lube and condom and I'll be back, okay? Do me a a favour?"

"What's that?"

He smirked and whispered in her ear, "Play with yourself until I get back?" Chuckling, Ann shook her head, but reached down to where his fingers were just now slipping out of her, guiding two of hers inside. He looked down and groaned softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Back in a minute."

With that, Phill climbed off the pullout and kissed her cheek before hurrying off to the bedroom to grab the lube and a condom. As she heard him walk away, she settled on her back and toyed with herself, trying to ignore the way her heart was starting to race.

She'd never done this before. She'd never really even considered it. All the horror stories she'd heard from other women in her life, all the tales of pain and discomfort and walking funny afterward or being unable to sit… He wouldn't do that to her, though, right? He'd promised he'd be careful and go slow. He'd said he'd stop if she wanted him to.

"God, I love watching you do that," Phil sighed, prompting her to look up, spotting him behind the couch. "I could watch you play with yourself every day for the rest of my life."

That comment made Ann's heart twinge, but she brushed it aside as him just being pervy again. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, cupping her cheek. "Come on, let's do this before I change my mind," she laughed, her voice slightly breathless. "I'm getting nervous."

He smiled and climbed over the back of the couch, settling next to her and kissing her deeply, tilting her chin up to his with one finger. "It'll be fine. If it hurts, tell me and I'll stop. It's not supposed to hurt," he explained gently, kissing the tip of her nose.

"But you didn't earlier."

Kissing at the crook of her neck, Phil mumbled, "When?"

"When you were going down on me, and I told you I couldn't keep going," she gasped, since one of his fingers had joined hers inside of her.

He pulled back and looked at her, the concern clear on his face. "You really wanted me to stop? I thought you were joking… And you didn't use the safeword we agreed on," he began, his words coming faster as he continued to talk.

"Phillip," she sighed, reaching up and touching his lips with one finger to shush him. "You've never made me come that many times in one go before. I could barely move by the third one and then you made me come again and I just… I was worried I wouldn't be able to move after. I was really enjoying it, though, I promise."

It was the first time they'd had that sort of miscommunication regarding their sex life. Normally, they were on the same wavelength. He bit at his lower lip and looked at her, but she gently tugged his lip out of his teeth and leaned in to kiss him.

"I just wish you would've checked on me to see why I needed to stop. You know?" she murmured, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip.

He managed a smile before kissing her again. "I will next time. I'm sorry, baby," he replied, resting his forehead on hers.

A fond smile curled her lips before she kissed him again. "Okay. So how do we do this?" she asked, her voice soft, a brief thought flickering through her mind about if he could hear how nervous she was.

"Well… It'll be easiest with you lying on your belly. You should be the most comfortable that way."

Nodding, Ann rolled onto her stomach, folding her arms under her head as she watched him look her over, felt his hand slide down her body, resting on her ass.

"Can I be honest with you about something?"

She gave him a look and said, "No, you can't be honest, I want you to lie to me about everything. Of course you can be honest with me. You always can. What's up?"

A goofy, sheepish smile formed on his face as he admitted, "I've wanted to do this since the first night we met, when you bent over to get the chickens out of the oven. You have an _amazing_ ass."

Her cheeks blazed as she buried her face in her arm, ignoring the kiss he pressed to her shoulder as his hand left her backside. "I hate you so much right now," she whined, peeking at him before turning toward him and pouting. "Why would you say that when you're about to focus so much attention on my ass? I mean, seriously, that's like telling someone not to think about pink elephants."

"Because it's my real opinion of your butt?" he said as she heard him fumbling about with something just out of her line of vision. "You know me, I wouldn't lie about that, I'm a total ass man. The only problem is that now I'm thinking about pink elephants, thanks to you."

"Just as long as it's not my ass making you think of pink elephants," she sighed as she felt two lube-slick fingers gently rubbing between her cheeks, not so much pressing as they were simply rubbing. It was almost the same way he rubbed her back sometimes after a long day. Just in a very small spot in a very private place of her body that almost no one had ever touched before.

It felt strange, but not altogether unpleasant.

"Keep calm and stay relaxed, okay? Just enjoy it," he murmured, his other hand rubbing at her back. "If anything hurts, tell me. You'll probably feel some pressure, but I'll do my best to not hurt you. I've got a glove on, just so you know. I grabbed one from the box you keep under the sink." She nodded and, when one of his fingers passed over her opening again, he gently pressed just enough to ease the tip inside, drawing a short gasp from her lips. "Good or bad?"

She took a deep breath and rested her head on her arms, hesitantly canting her hips back toward him. "Good… You can go deeper, it's just been a while." The blush came back when she felt his breath warm on her hip before he brushed a kiss over her skin. God, the things this man made her feel. She couldn't believe she was doing this, actually agreeing to let a guy fuck her in the ass, but as vulgar as that sounded, she had an idea that it wouldn't _feel_ that way. Not with Phil.

Damn him.

His finger slipped deeper, curving just so, and she whimpered softly, her fingers digging into the sheets underneath her. The hand he was rubbing her back with disappeared and she made a face when another squirt of cool lube surrounded his fingers. "Phil, that's cold," she pouted, looking at him over her shoulder.

The look on his face was amazing. His gaze was fixed on her ass, probably watching his finger move in and out, his cheeks slightly flushed. Something occurred to her and she bit at her cheek before she asked, "Is this the first time you've done this, too?"

It took a second before he tore his gaze away from her ass and looked at her, smiling shyly. "I, uh… Yeah. Is it that obvious?" he asked, gently pushing a second finger inside of her, watching her carefully for signs of pain, but she moaned softly, reaching back for his free hand.

"Not until I looked at you. It was the look on your fa— oh, fuck," she gasped, reaching back to grab at his hand, lifting her ass toward him. "That feels pretty damn good for your first time doing this…"

The more he worked on her, the greater temptation she felt to let go of his hand and ask him to play with her clit. Then he very carefully added a third finger inside of her and she groaned softly, bringing her hand up by her face. "Sweetheart, I need you to touch me," she breathed, resting her cheek on her forearm, pushing her hair out of her face. "Please?"

"But I am touching you," was his reply, an understandable note of confusion in his voice.

"I mean here," she said, reaching back down and taking his hand, guiding it to her astonishingly wet pussy. She hadn't expected to be this wet from him playing with her ass. Go figure. The moan that slid out of her throat when he slipped two fingers inside of her, his thumb on her clit, surprised even herself. The only other time she'd ever made a noise like that had been when he'd come home from being away for two weeks and all they'd had was dirty texting. The sex when he'd come home to find her naked and ready in his apartment, homemade pizza waiting to be baked and ice cream in the freezer, had been fucking fantastic.

As well as fantastic fucking.

"Baby, if I don't get inside of you soon, I'm going to explode," Phil said, his voice tinged with lust, nearly breathless as she rocked her hips back onto his fingers. "Think you're ready for my cock?"

She took a slow breath before nodding and giving him a smile over her shoulder. "I think so. Just be gentle, okay?" she replied, groaning softly when his fingers slid out of her. All five of them. There was a moment of pouting, but she settled on her stomach, parting her legs enough for him to kneel between as she watched him get rid of the lube-slick glove. He unwrapped the condom and rolled it on before slathering his cock in what looked like the entire bottle of lube. "Isn't that too much?"

He just grinned and shook his head. "There's no such thing as too much lube when it comes to anal, according to a buddy of mine." As he shifted to kneel between her legs, he hooked an arm around her waist and carefully pulled her up to knees and elbows, his voice rough in her ear. "This should be easier on the both of us."

There was another brief pause as she settled on her elbows, watching him over her shoulder, quite entranced by the expression on his face as he parted her cheeks and guided his cock to her and carefully began pressing in. Her eyes widened and she gasped, arching underneath him, her cheeks flushing again. "Oh god, you feel even fucking bigger than normal," she mewled, leaning on one elbow as she reached down with her other hand, gently playing with her clit.

"Too much?" he asked, stopping and rubbing the small of her back with his unlubed hand, but she shook her head and inched her hips back toward him.

"No, it's just the pressure, it makes you feel enormous inside me." Phil began moving again, carefully pressing in a little deeper before easing back out a bit. When he thrust forward again, he slipped further in, making her whimper. It didn't hurt. There was pressure, yes, but it wasn't pain.

The second that Phil began to thrust properly, she whimpered and buried her face in her arm, her pussy dripping as she pushed two fingers in, but his hand slid down to hers, brushing it away. She felt his mouth on her shoulders, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses across her shoulders as his hips gently moved against her, his fingers easing in to where hers had just been, his other hand moving to her breast, idly playing with her nipple.

Despite the fact that this was anal sex and not "regular" sex, it still felt just as good. It didn't feel dirty at all, not even as he bit at her shoulder and began fingering her a little harder, his thumb toying with her clit. Her head was spinning from all the sensations she was experiencing, becoming overwhelmed by. She had no idea if she'd be able to come (for the fifth time in less than an hour and a half, god only knew), but everything that was happening was just beyond what she'd expected.

Suddenly, he was grunting and his hips were coming a little harder. It still didn't hurt, but she was more than slightly surprised by the force he was taking her with. Then he cried out, his back arching as he tossed his head back, his hand grasping her breast firmly. Stupid bastard. He'd just come. Still, she couldn't pout too much, since he'd made her come four times just while waiting for dinner to be delivered.

When he pulled out and got rid of the condom, Ann sat up on her knees and turned around to kiss him, pulling him close. "So, that was fun," she admitted, her cheeks pinking up again.

"Really? Because we can do it again later—"

"Another day," she said, cutting him off. "It was fun, but I don't think I could do it again right now." Her butt felt a little strange, but there was no pain. She just wasn't sure she could do anal again today. "Maybe over the weekend."

He smiled and kissed her again before climbing off of the pullout and picking her up in his arms. "C'mon, let's go get cleaned up," he grinned, carrying her off to the bathroom. "I'm sorry you didn't come again."

"Phil, I've had five orgasms today; one while doing laundry and four while waiting for dinner. I think I'm good."

He let out a big laugh as he set her down and reached into the shower to turn the water on, shooing her inside.


End file.
